Reflected Influence
by smartkid37
Summary: With the passing of Mike Franks, comes memories of his influences and unexpected proof of his reflection into the next generation. Written for Emerald for the 2011 Secret Santa Story Exchange on NFA
1. Chapter 1

**Episode Tags:**  
><em><br>Hiatus , Escaped , Faking It , Iceman , Judgement Day , Dagger , Deliverence , Outlaws and Inlaws , Rule 51 & Swan Song_

* * *

><p><em>Early Evening one hour after Mike Frank's Funeral – May 25, 2011<em>

Looking around the squad room, it was easy for Ducky to see that every one of them was feeling the pain of Mike Franks' death keenly. Ziva's normally stoic façade had already begun to crumble, her eyes glassy with unshed tears as she sat staring at her monitor, as though she'd find the answers there. The M.E. had just arrived in the squad room, having come straight from the retired agent's funeral and stopped to look at each of them in turn. As he stood silently scrutinizing this team, a quiet Jimmy stood by silently doing the same. Neither spoke a word, but their sorrow was as plain to see as anyone's.

Tim was clearly worried about his teammates as his constantly shifting glances of concern spelled out. But, more than that was the look on his drawn, distanced expression with exhaustion etched across his face that clearly said that he had someone else on his mind; someone he was very concerned about. Tony's eyes hadn't come up off his desk, but his shoulders were slouched with pained sorrow. In fact, the Senior Field Agent hadn't said a word since they'd come in from Mike's funeral- to anyone.

They all knew Abby was silently hiding out in her lab, having reached the stage in her grief process where she needed to be alone. She wasn't quite ready to cry it out on someone's shoulder but she'd need the others when she got to that point. For now, they knew to leave her be.

Tim's expression seemed to change as if he'd resettled his thoughts for a moment and as Ducky watched him, he shut down his computer, grabbed his gear bag and stood up; his mind made up. It was obvious that there was somewhere he needed to be and he needed to be there now. Even though this was far beyond his normal scope of behavior, the fact that he felt strongly driven to do what he was about to was clear.

Tony finally looked up as Tim walked past his desk toward the elevator. "Where you goin', Probie?" the question was quiet yet tinged with the authority the older man had long ago earned as the boss' second-in-command.

"There's something I need to do, Tony." Tim answered with the quiet dignity and respect befitting the mood within the squad room at present as he stopped and looked at his teammate.

"Can't be more important than being here for Abby." Tony argued.

"Believe it or not, Tony, this is more important. Besides, it's not like Abby's being left alone. She has you guys when she's ready to be comforted."

"Probie, she's gonna need you to be there for her, more than us. She always does. Whatever it is you think you need to do right now can wait."

"No, Tony, this can't wait and besides, you and Ducky are the one who need to be here for Abby. She listens to both of you." Tim answered with a little more volume to his still calm tone. Without another word, he glanced at Ducky and then at Jimmy, offering them each a small smile as left the squad room without looking back.

*******NCIS*******

Drawn here to this wall of fallen heroes like a moth to the flame, the emotions rose from the depths of his soul, threatening to choke the very life out of him. He felt lost because the life lost this time had been so much more than a friend, a colleague or a fellow agent. He'd been mentor, brother, lifesaver, best friend, trusted advisor and a moral compass of sorts, all in one. Standing there looking at the wall now, the faces stared back at him almost accusingly.

How many more would be lost to this cause? Was he doing enough? Could he have prevented the loss of this agent or that one, Jenny or Cassidy, Langer or Lee; Pacci or Kate? And what about Macy and Mike? How could he have prevented the horrible way Macy died? What could he have done differently so that Mike's life hadn't been sacrificed this way? How was it they could outsmart and outlive the most vicious of drug cartel scumbags from Mexico, but lose the battle of a CIA experiment gone wrong? Was there no justice in the world for the Agents who put their lives on the line every day?

Before he could stop it, a treasured memory slipped through the levee and replayed itself in vivid color in his mind:

_"The world's changin', Mike."_

_"All the lines are getting blurred, Probie. Hard for a man not to step over them. And you can call off this protection detail. I can take care of myself just fine."_

_"No, I can't do that, Mike. All you have to be is a half a second slower and you're dead."_

_"Or the other guy just has to be a half second faster, just like it's always been….Maybe I am a half second slower."_

"Hell of a way to find out you were right, huh, Mike?" Gibbs softly scoffed as he felt the slice of pain twist in his heart. It wasn't but a heartbeat later that another memory flew up to hit him square between the eyes.

_"Girl had a lot of regrets."_

_"We all do."_

"Never thought this would be one of them, Boss." Gibbs murmured apologetically, tracing the photo one last time as the memory of that short conversation came back to him now.

_"Don't apologise; sign of weakness."_

"Not between friends, Mike. Definitely not between us." Blinking back the tears that blurred his vision, Gibbs tried to rein his breathing and his emotions in as one more memory slipped through his silent walls.

_"I'm saying there comes a time to hang up your spurs"._

_"I won't need you or anybody to tell me when that is I'll know 'cause I'll be dead"_

"Weren't supposed to hang 'em up like this, Mike. You were there from the beginning and I'll be damned if I know what I'm gonna do without you there now." Drawing in a ragged breath filled with sorrow and the tears he refused to allow himself to shed, Gibbs slowly let it back out as he stared down at his long time mentor's' photo one last time. He was mentally preparing himself to add it to the wall before him, but the longer he stood there, the more he wanted to deny what had happened.

"Thanks, Boss. For everything." He murmured softly, tracing the photo. With shaking hands, he respectfully tacked the photo up on the wall, right between Jenny's and Macy's. Mentally saluting the newest member of the fallen among the brethren of agents, Gibbs sent up a silent vow that somehow, he'd keep his promise to look after Lela and Amira. It was the least he could do for the one person who had loved and protected them with all he was worth. Now they were alone in the world; a partner, a father and now a father/grandfather lost to a cruel world that showed no mercy.

*******NCIS*******

Tony looked long and hard at the M.E. once Tim had disappeared from the squad room. "What the hell could possibly be more important than being here for Abby?" Tony asked angrily.

"Anthony, you must calm yourself enough to listen to the reasoning Timothy gave you. He did not abandon Abigail, he left her in our care because he knows that we will take care of her and she will listen to our guidance while her defenses are down and grief is taking a toll on her."

"Okay." Tony grudgingly admitted. "Doesn't explain what was more important."

"I believe it is a matter of who is more important." Ziva observed quietly, her eyes cast in the direction of Gibbs' desk.

"What are you saying, Ziva? Are you saying that Probie is more concerned about Gibbs right now than he is Abby?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Why would he not be? Mike Franks was Gibbs most trusted advisor and friend. I am sorry Ducky. I did not mean to cast aspersions on your long standing friendship with Gibbs. We all know he cares deeply for you as well." She suggested as she cast an apologetic glance the M.E.'s way.

"No need to apologise, Ziva. I understand and have to agree with you. The death of Mike Franks will no doubt be affecting Jethro deeply. That is unfortunately, something we can be certain of." Ducky answered somberly.

"Yeah, But, why Probie? I mean what the hell gave him the idea that he could do anything to help Gibbs with it? The two don't ever talk about anything but cases on a normal day, for cryin' out loud!" Tony continued to object.

"Perhaps that is precisely why Timothy has taken this time to put Jethro first above everyone else; even Abigail, whom he usually puts first in all that he does. He knows that it will not be easy for Jethro to allow him to be there for him, but he believes it to be what he must do."

"I'm going over there." Tony muttered angrily and stood from his seat.

"No, Anthony! You most certainly are not! Do not make this a battle of wits or a contest between yourself and Timothy. The young man's heart is in the right place and whatever the outcome, good or bad, you must leave them to it. Ducky admonished.

"I agree with Ducky." Ziva spoke quietly. "McGee rarely puts himself out there in this manner where Gibbs is concerned and it is not our place to take that away from him. Until this moment, his concern has always been a silent one, always only speaking when asked during difficult times such as these and although I do not know why that is, I for one will do nothing to get in his way."

"C'mon! You guys know all Gibbs will want is his bourbon and his basement since his boat's gone. Crap! What if he starts building boats again? McGee will screw that up for sure! He and boats are like oil and water! Great! Gibbs'll come back even more pissed off at the world if he comes back at all! Damn it! Ducky, what if he leaves again, this time for good?" Tony ranted angrily, his own grief giving way for irrational thoughts.

"Anthony, do not buy trouble. Stop looking for it in places it has not yet arisen." Ducky advised sadly as if he too were worried about that possibility.

"We're letting the chronically seasick probie guide this ship? Unbelievable!" Tony muttered as he sat back down with a plop.

"Anthony DiNozzo, I'll thank you to stop thinking and speaking so disparagingly of your teammate! He has always been there for you, has he not?" The M.E. admonished sternly.

"And what has his seasickness got to do with comforting someone?" Ziva demanded.

"Yeah. Yeah, he has." Tony admitted with a deep sigh of resignation. "I'm not explaining it again, Zee. Okay, Ducky. We'll do this your way."

"Good! Now, maybe you should consider giving Timothy some credit where it is due, young man! He cares greatly for all of you and if given half the chance would be able to show you as much!" Ducky admonished him further.

Tony looked at the M.E. silently; contemplating the truth he'd just been handed.


	2. Chapter 2

How was it possible that it felt like it had been just yesterday; everything in such sharp detail as though it had just happened? And yet, it felt like it was a lifetime ago when he'd watched from a distance as yet another photo was added to that wall of their fallen comrades in the small pub the man knew so well. Placed there by none other than the boss who lived by the creed of keeping everything bottled up so tight it was always a miracle that the bottle hadn't cracked or shattered by now from the strain.

He looked across the room while deliberately keeping his eyes off the silver haired grieving man standing in front of the wall opposite from the bar. Sure, Tim remained alert in every other way that counted as he pondered that metaphorical bottle, but he knew that Gibbs needed time and space to deal with things in his own, unique way. It had been with a profoundly deep sense of relief that the young man remembered seeing the boss come in here when Langer had been killed in the line of duty some years ago and the fact that he was here again told Tim he'd read the situation correctly now.

That memory had been the guiding force driving him and had been pivotal to him finding his boss now. All he wanted to do was to keep an eye on him to make sure he really was going to be okay because Tim wasn't satisfied in accepting the old standard of letting Gibbs drown himself in booze or bury himself in grief without a wingman to watch over him. If the older man held all of this pain, grief and anger in until it coalesced into the bitter anger and sadness that would probably consume him, then Gibbs would be a walking monument to misery for the foreseeable future which would in turn, make his life more of a living hell than Tim knew it already had been when the boss had lost his wife and daughter all those years ago. Tim wasn't prepared to let that happen without at least doing his best to prevent it. Gibbs deserved at least that much.

Granted, Tim had no plans to tell the boss how he could or couldn't handle anything. No, the only intention Tim had was to be there for the older man whether he wanted him to be or not. He remembered feeling as though he didn't have the right to intrude on any of those rare moments of emotional weakness from Gibbs then. The man had been so stoic and tough as nails back then and even now, his façade wavered rarely. Tim felt differently now and mentally vowed to be there for Gibbs should he need him.

The difference between then and now, was that before, Tim had watched from a distance, staying on the outside looking in through the window to make sure Gibbs was alright, but the slice of kinship that he'd felt now, after having shared those moments in the squad room between Gibbs and Mike, when Mike was in trouble over his mother-in-law's attempts to take her daughter and granddaughter from the retired agent's home in Mexico had given Tim a glimpse of how that deeply bonded relationship between Gibbs and Mike worked. It had been a privilege to witness and those moments had stayed with him since then, leaving him with more compassion towards the boss, than he'd ever carried with him before.

_**Flashback**_

_"Careful. I've been writing on this thing all day. I was just about to sign it."_

_"My second year, we caught a case, you and I. A Sergeant and his best friend... took his little boy Duck-hunting for the first time."_

_"Geese. They were chasing wild geese."_

_"I know, Mike. You made that joke a few times."_

_"You laughed each time."_

_"Well, I had to, I worked for you then."_

_"Not anymore."_

_"That Sergeant dragged his friend home that day... missing half his chest. Dead. Birdshot blast, close range. Nothing accidental about it. But you wouldn't charge him."_

_"It was accidental."_

_"Little boy's gun went off. Shot that guy right through the heart. And I've been thinking about that a lot lately. That Sergeant... standing over the body of his best friend. His ten-year-old son's just killed him. He's feeling like it's his fault. Like he failed them both. Only one thing left for him to do. And that's to protect his son from what's coming next. Put his shotgun into the wound. And fires. He's thinkin' he'll take the bullet himself."_

_"This ain't gonna work. When'd you figure it?"_

_"Boss. You wanted me to let you know if I found anything interesting about Shada Shakarji. According to this flight information, she's on a commercial plane right now."_

_"Grandma's on her way to D.C."_

_**End Flashback***_

Gibbs' movement across the room dragged Tim from his memory and brought his mind back into focus for the task at hand. This was not going to be easy; hell, he wasn't even sure it could be done, But he was gonna give it his best, and when it came down to it, he'd throw every ounce of his own determination and stubbornness into the ring for good measure. Failure was not an option here.

Watching his boss return to the bar and take his seat once more, Tim breathed a sigh of relief that nothing out of the ordinary had happened yet and held a little glimmer of hope that maybe it still wouldn't. He wasn't sure what to expect but whatever was coming when the boss realized he had a shadow, probably wasn't gonna be good. Keeping his eyes glued to the full glass of beer that he hadn't even wanted, he made sure his peripheral vision included the sight of Gibbs' as he remained at the bar belting down his third shot of bourbon. Tim wasn't about to make this harder on either of them by chancing a staring contest or worse, a battle of wills. This way was easier on both of them and the distance kept any problems that might come out of it at bay.

Tim realized that he was really gonna miss Franks. The guy had not only been notorious for his bad habits but famous for his role in Gibbs' life as well; at least with the agents under Gibbs' command. Every one of them had been in awe of Franks and the way he and Gibbs had helped each other out of everything that had come their way, with no questions asked and a deep rooted trust that was obvious to them all. Tim was in awe of that bond because even though he trusted his team, he didn't have that kind of kinship with them and truth be told, he was slightly envious of it.

He remembered having been Mike's ride to NCIS when the older man had been in trouble for defending his family against Colonel Bells' contract would-be assassins. It had been a strangely relaxing ride with neither of them saying anything after they'd exchanged polite yet silent nods of greeting as the older man got into the agency car. While it there had been nothing really memorable about the ride, it had been the few moments after Tim had parked the car they'd gotten out and were walking toward the office that had stuck out in his mind, even now.

_"You're alright, kid. No damn wonder Probie keeps you on his team. With you around a person can actually hear themselves think. Don't have to worry for their lives with you behind the wheel, either."_

_"Uhm. Thanks " Tim answered nervously._

_"Gotta wonder how the hell you put up with DiNozzo's crap, though. Would love to know your secret."_

_"Patience." Tim answered with a small smile, remembering the few times he'd managed to turn things around on the Senior Field Agent enough to have made it worth the wait to do it._

_"Hmm. You're beginning to sound like Probie."_

_"Thanks!" Tim replied feeling the warmth of the compliment override the embarrassment._

_"Crazy kid." Mike muttered as they entered the building, bringing the conversation to an end.  
><em>

****NCIS****

Gibbs felt someone watching him from across the room, although the usual sense of alarm was missing. Somehow, even with his emotions already running high as he tried like hell to deal with this loss, he already knew this was friend, not foe. As he sat there alternately nursing and then taking a swig of his third shot of bourbon, he kept his eyes trained on the mirror behind the bar and searched it without moving his head, for the face behind the presence he was feeling.

Whoever it was needed to have a strip torn off their hide for this attempt at underhanded protection duty he hadn't sanctioned and sure as hell didn't want. Fairly certain that it was his Senior Field Agent who would have taken it on himself to be the boss' protector tonight, the silver haired man nearly choked on his liquor when his eyes finally caught sight of just who his shadow actually was. _McGee?_

From across the room, Tim's hair stood on end, dragging his mind back from his memories alerting him to the fact that he'd been busted and the crap was about to hit the fan. He barely had time to hope that this would end well before the expected person dropped down into the seat across the table from him and growled his question. "What the hell ya doin' here, McGee?"

Tim raised his head up and looked his mentor straight on. "Watching my boss' six, Sir." He answered quietly enough that only Gibbs could hear him. Despite its quietness, there was a strength in it that would leave the older man with no doubts that Tim meant business about both the deliberate use of the respected title and his mission here tonight.

Gibbs drank from his glass and sighed as he set it down on the table in front of him. His hand tented over the glass, watching the dark liquid move as he twisted the glass within the grasp of his fingertips for a minute that was filled with silence.

Tim waited with baited breath to see what the boss would say or do next.

"Go home, Tim." Gibbs ordered quietly without looking up from his drink. The hushed, calm tone betraying the grief that he was trying to hide.

"I can't do that, Boss." Tim insisted persistently, his heart and his stubbornness prevalent in his tone.

The older man looked up and over at his agent and raised his eyebrows in his patented silent demand that what had just been said be either repeated or corrected.

"We're a team. We're supposed to be there for each other when one of us needs help or support. I'm here in that capacity. I'm not leaving my team member without back up."

The Team Leader smirked at the twist Tim had put on the rules of being part of a team, but one look into the younger man's eyes showed him a hint of defeat that was just barely visible. The smirk disappeared and Gibbs looked back down at his drink, thinking about Tim's rare show of going against his orders just so the kid could look out for him.

He and this agent had never talked on any personal level before and maybe that was why this was such a shock. Tim was well known for being the thoughtful, kindhearted peacemaker on the team. That part of who Tim was made this behavior less than a completely foreign idea, now that the boss thought on it for a minute. Still, the kid had never done anything like this before that Gibbs knew of.

From across the table, the barely visible droop in his agent's shoulders caught Gibbs' just before the muttered words were spoken half under the young man's breath. "Not surprised you're laughing, Tony always does too."

Having mentally talked himself into taking a rather large gulp of the stuff that was nearly sending his stomach into serious upheaval just from the smell, Tim lifted his own glass up from the table. A hand suddenly placed over his before the glass reached his lips and pushed slightly so that he lowered back to the table. Tim sighed and glanced up at the boss.

Gibbs took his hand away as he scrutinized his agent. Having declared he was here to look after the boss, Tim's quick reflex to raise his drink spoke volumes to the older man and what he was hearing twisted his heart.

"Wasn't laughin' at you, McGee; laughin' at the way you said it. Sounded like a little kid defending himself for wanting to protect his dad." Gibbs had a sad smile on his face and his eyes were just as sad.

"_Maybe I was." _Tim thought to himself, not realizing he'd spoken the words aloud.

"McGee." Gibbs' voice was pained as the young man's words hit him in the heart.

"I'm sorry Boss I didn't mean to say that out loud." Tim was quick to offer, the sincere apology for causing the man even a moment of pain he recognized now in his eyes.

"McGee, go home." Gibbs told him quietly without any heat or bite to his tone. "I can take care of myself."

Realizing the former Marine sitting across from him was deliberately moving this away from the deeper level that just been accidentally breached between them, Tim reciprocated after giving it some serious thought for a minute. "Okay, Boss. I'll see you later then."

Getting up, he walked away without another word and left the pub, leaving Gibbs wondering what the hell had just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Leaving his boss sitting in that bar was one of the hardest things Tim had ever had to do outside of dealing with the loss of the people that had perished in the line of duty. The simple fact of the matter was that people didn't win an argument with Gibbs on a normal day and since this day was far from normal, Tim wasn't about to push the guy's buttons any more than he needed to. There was more than one way to get things done and if falling back and handling this from a different angle was what it would take, then that's what he'd do.

He already knew where Gibbs' car was, having seen it in the parking lot when he'd arrived, so now it was just a matter of sitting tight and keeping tabs on him from a bit further away. Tim experienced a moment of profound gratitude that Gibbs had taken the time to stop him from taking that drink. When taken in the context of the bigger picture, Tim was actually surprised that he'd done it.

The man's use of Tim's given name had come as a surprise as well, but there hadn't been time to think about it until now. That choice of words betrayed the boss' grieving state of mind, just like when they'd lost Kate and Gibbs had been nice for the first day after. Rather than scare him away this time like it had done then, this actually left Tim more convinced than before that he was where he needed to be; watching over Gibbs. He sat there thinking but was pulled back to the preset by Gibbs coming out of the pub and heading toward his car. Tim's attention immediately honed in on the older man and what he was going to do next, all other thoughts fading away into the background to give way to alertness.

Gibbs knew the minute he stepped outside that Tim hadn't gone home like he'd told him to and for some reason the Team Leader wasn't really surprised about it. Even more shocking was the realization that he wasn't even pissed about it. The determination in the young man's eyes earlier hadn't been there just for show. Still, the boss needed him to know that he knew his agent was there and that the kid was still expected to go home and leave Gibbs in peace. Stopping in his trek to his car, he stopped and turned, glaring at his agent from across the distance, hoping this would be enough to send him on home and convince his young agent that he was fine and could take care of himself.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, the young man started his car and drove off, unwilling to piss Gibbs off any more at this point. He wasn't about to give up though and the boss was just gonna have to accept that when it came down to it. Tim may not have made it a habit to stand his ground firmly like this, letting his stubbornness rule the situation where it concerned others, except where his sister was concerned, but this was one time, that's exactly what was called for and he was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

Driving fast enough to stay ahead of the suped up classic car Gibbs drove, Tim parked on the side of the road where he thought the boss would be passing by and slunk down in his seat, waiting for the sound of that almost unique car heading his way as well as the easy to spot yellow flash of color going by.

He was, once again, relieved he'd traded his own sports car in for something much less showy and far less noticeable. Gibbs most likely wouldn't be able to pick his out from the multitude of them that were parked up and down the busy street, making his task of keeping tabs on his boss that much easier. Sure enough, it wasn't but a mere two minutes later that he saw the proof he needed and breathed a sigh of relief.

This time, he left things well enough alone. Oh, he wasn't done by any means, but he was done trying to handle this from head on. After all, this was pretty serious and it was obvious that right now the boss was actually fine and that it would be later he would probably not be. Later, things would heat up and that's when Tim would need to be there and be on his toes. Right now, his focus was on the clock while he waited to make his next move.

It was gonna be a long night, he mused as he started his car and set off after the boss a couple of minutes after the man had passed by. He offered up a prayer of thanks that the boss' door was always open and that Gibbs had never made a secret of that, like he fully expected the team to take advantage of that when they needed him for something. Tim never expected to be doing just that, but since it wasn't for himself that he was about to do so, he felt no qualms about finally using the invitation to his advantage… at least that's what he kept telling himself as he drove.

*****NCIS*****

Gibbs breathed out a sigh of relief but still felt frustration course through him. He appreciated what McGee had tried to do for him tonight, he really did and when things settled down, he'd find a way to let his agent know that, but he really didn't want or need a shadow; not on the worst night he'd had in a very long time. That wasn't how he dealt with these things and they all knew that about him. They all knew about his philosophy; The Three B's and they knew better than to try to change that about him or get in the way of it.

Sure, they all also knew that the boats had been replaced with wooden toys for the children in the local hospitals but that didn't change the fact that all of them knew not to mess with that part of who he was. It still floored him that Tim McGee, of all people on his team, had been the one to try to breach that wall and break through the way he dealt with things.

Gibbs pulled out of the pub feeling numb. His mind had been dulled by the alcohol but his emotions were just as raw as ever. He drove himself home trying to make sense of the situation when his thoughts blanked suddenly leaving a clean slate open to the questions that he had. What the hell had he been thinking about before spying his youngest field agent keeping watch over him and sending him packing? Hell, he couldn't even remember now!

Before he knew it, he was pulling into his own driveway and turning his car off. He didn't even remember telling his legs to take him to the house before he found himself inside his own front door and for once in his life, locking it, as if keeping the world at bay for this one night. Funny how that rare action didn't even give him pause to second guess himself, but his quest for the solitude of his own mind was one that needed to be fulfilled and this was the one thing he could do to ensure it.

Looking out the large window of his front door one last time, he felt his breath hitch at the sight of his agent stubbornly arriving on his block, no doubt to make sure the boss had arrived home safely. He watched as Tim parked the strange car he'd been driving tonight next to his driveway and sat looking over at Gibbs' car. Gibbs found himself getting really pissed about it now. He'd told the kid to go home. This old man didn't need a babysitter and this was just stopping him from making sense of a world that was hell bent on knocking him for six.

_"I don't need babysitting, Gunny. I can look after myself." _

His breath caught painfully at that sting of that memory. "Yeah, Mike, I know. Who do you think I got it from?" he said softly as he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. Turning to leave the young man sitting out there as long as it made him happy, the older man was stopped short when he glimpsed the look on his agent's face. Parked as close as he was, it wasn't hard to see and in a weird night of oddities, it was rare that anyone got to see Tim McGee unguarded like this and what the more seasoned agent was seeing now was like a punch to the gut.

Whether or not he ever admitted it to himself or anyone else, these kids were like his own to him and he hated to see them hurting. The look on Tim's face left no doubt the young man was definitely feeling raw and hurting. He didn't need this; not tonight, but Gibbs could not just leave his agent out there like that, regardless. Taking out his cell phone, he called the young man.

_"Hey, Boss."_Tim's voice was as shaky and worried as the look on his face showed him to be, giving Gibbs plenty of reason to be glad he'd made the call.

"Park your wheels in my driveway and get in here, McGee." He told him gruffly before snapping his phone closed and tossing it on the table by the door. Snapping the door lock back, he turned and headed to the kitchen, looked at the coffee pot and smirked. _Yeah, that's not happenin'. Not tonight._

Without wasting any more time, he jogged down his basement steps and made a beeline for his second 'b', reaching for his trusty mason jar as well, dumping its contents out on his work table and wiping it out with his shirt just like he always did. As he poured himself a generous amount and set the big bottle back on the table with a slight bang, Tim's footsteps finally reached his ears as they slowly and uncertainly made their way down the first few steps to the landing that separated that section from the steps that turned and continued on to the bottom.

Silently Tim stood watching his boss continue to drink his way through his troubled thoughts and whatever pain and sorrow he was allowing himself to feel. Gibbs downed half his poured drink in one gulp before turning to address the young man he couldn't seem to get rid of. Suddenly, that moment of compassion he'd experienced back upstairs was gone and in its' place was a rising anger he had lost his grip on. "You're determined to babysit me tonight, McGee, Why?" Gibbs asked with no holes barred in his tone.

"It's like I told you already, Boss, I…" Tim tried to explain without moving from his spot.

"No, McGee! I don't buy it! What's really goin' on here? Abby put you up to this? DiNozzo? Ziva?" Gibbs barked so loud he was almost yelling, his anger burning hot and his eyes burning glare nearly searing Tim's soul.

"What? No. NO!" Tim threw back at him; the last denial spoken in genuine anger that this man who he'd spent the last six plus years working for and trusting his life to, still didn't think him capable of acting in the best interest of others.

Suddenly, without even realizing it, he'd taken himself the rest of the way down the stairs and now stood only a few feet away from the boss. "Look, I know, I'm not the son to you that Tony is and I'm definitely not someone you're close to like Ducky, but Abby needs them right now and you don't need to be completely alone tonight."

"How the hell do you know what I need, McGee?" Gibbs bit out angrily, his eyes snapping with rising fury.

Tim swallowed hard but maintained eye contact. "Because I've been there."

Disbelief filled Gibbs' eyes and while it hit Tim like a punch to the gut, his focus remained on the older man who needed someone to reach out to him, even if he didn't realize that yet.

Swallowing hard, Tim finished saying what needed to be heard, choosing his words carefully. "I'm not pretending to know you that well. But, I do know that Mike meant an awful lot to you and I know that you're hurting pretty bad right now and will probably take comfort from the bottle. I'm not here to talk you out of that. But, I'm not leaving until I know you're gonna be okay"

"I don't need a damn babysitter!" the older man snapped with the tone and volume that would normally have people scurrying out of his way.

"I know you don't want me here, Boss, so I won't get in your way. You won't even know I'm here. But I'm stayin' in case you need me." Tim stubbornly held his eye contact and squared his shoulders. "Besides, I think there's a part of you that does want someone here for you tonight or you wouldn't have told me to come inside, you would have sent me packing"

"Tried that already, McGee, in case you missed it." Gibbs growled.

"It doesn't matter how much your growl at me or even glare at me, I'm not leaving." Tim staunchly insisted, his eyes not wavering from those of his irate and slightly tipsy boss.

Suddenly, the banging of the mason jar down on the table was all the warning Tim got before the completely pissed off former Marine was in his face; bringing up the memory of that most uncomfortable moment in time when they'd faced off in the elevator like this over Sarah in her ex-boyfriend's murder, as well as, that other moment when this man had angrily taken him to task for letting Director Shepherd manipulate him into quitting over that same mess.

"Answer the damn question, McGee! Why are you here?"

"Boss, if you don't know then I can't explain it to you, but don't worry, I'm not here to talk. But, I am serious. You can fire me if you want, but I'm not leaving until…." Tim insisted with more guts and bravado then he'd ever used towards this man on a personal level before.

"Damn it, McGee – go home!" Gibbs snarled as he harshly interrupted the young man and stepped back at the same time, anger radiating off of him.

Tim did as Gibbs told him and started walking back up the stairs. He stopped on the landing and looked back down at his mentor. "Everyone has a point where they can't take anymore, Boss, their breaking point. You'll need someone to help you hold on when you get there. We all do." Tim decreed quietly with heartfelt sympathy flooding his voice and the shared pain borne of experience visible in his eyes, as he locked his own eyes onto Gibbs'

"That's why I won't leave you to go through this alone." He turned on his heel and silently took himself up the stairs and out of sight, hoping that his words would have some impact.


	4. Chapter 4

Ducky managed to corral the rest of the team into dinner at his house, wanting to not only keep them close at hand, but also to keep them each surrounded by the rest of the team as a way to aide in comforting them through this acute sense of loss they were all feeling. He was well aware that Mike Franks had become somewhat of an extension of Gibbs for the younger set and they had all looked up to him and counted on him to be there for their team leader the way none of them ever could; as a close trusted friend whom Gibbs actually listened to and leaned on when he needed to.

While dinner was nothing more than take out and pizza with non-alchohalic beverages to go with it; the somber pall that persisted over them did little to ease the grief and absolute sadness that remained the unshakable extra person in the room with them. After managing to cajole them into eating as much as they could of their food, Ducky urged them to get comfortable in his living room. Without missing a beat, the M.E. turned his radio on, soft jazz suddenly filling in the space that the oppressive silence had just been moments before. With a soft smile at each of them in turn, he started the conversation off that he knew they needed to have.

"Did you know, the first time I met Mike Franks was from afar and we never even spoke to one another? It was just after Jethro awoke from his coma as a result of that dreadful explosion. I didn't even realize who he was at the time. Jethro had never spoken of him enough for me to have made the connection. I'm afraid that one of the very last times I had the pleasure of meeting him, will haunt me for a very long time to come as I made no bones about telling Jethro that I had never cared much for the ideals of his mentor." Ducky ended his memoirs sadly.

"Wow, Ducky." Tony sympathized. "That must have been really hard. I think I know what you mean, though. Hell, I always thought he was further behind the times than even Gibbs and twice as stubborn and wiley as a coyote to boot." Tony admitted as he recounted the time Mike had conked him over the head to escape Tony being his protection detail. "He hated the whole protection detail idea to begin with. Gibbs had to put his foot down about it."

_"I want a twenty-four hour protection detail. DiNozzo, you're team leader."_

_"You're in safe hands, Mike."_

_"I've seen your hands, DiNozzo. They don't impress me. I don't need babysitting, Gunny. I can look after myself."_

_"After spending four months in that crap hole you call home in Baja, I find that highly debatable."_

_"Man, he got one over on me, too. Heh, but you'll already know that." Tony reminisced with a wry grin. Taking a breath, he dove back into the rest of his tale._

_"You're supposed to be inside the house, Mike."_

_"Nice catch. I must be getting sloppy."_

_"Well, I smelled the_

_cigarette smoke."_

_"I can smoke inside if you want."_

_"I don't think that's a good idea."_

_"Nope."_

_"Hello?"_

_"DiNozzo,"_

_"Oh. Hey, Boss. We were just talking about you."_

_"We 've got a security problem. Time to go off-script. Where's Franks?"_

_"Well, he's right here – Mike? Mike!"_

"You have to admit, Tony, it was pretty funny that you actually told Gibbs that it had to be a team of people who took him, when it was just Mike acting alone." Abby smirked as Tony's recollection wound down.

Tony grinned as he took the teasing in stride. "Yeah, I know. But, that was nothin' compared to what he did to me in Mexico. Honestly, you should have been there when he got the jump on me then. I swear I almost had to buy another pair of pants off the street vendor set up next to me, right then and there."

Tony laughed quietly as he recounted those moments between the two of them when he'd been following Marco Sánchez on Vance's orders. "There I was doing what I do best, in stealth mode, no less, following that slimy s.o.b. and all of a sudden, I feel this hard heavy hand on my shoulder and I'm literally wrenched practically off my feet and into the closest building. I tell ya my heart was pounding!"

"Your life flashed before your eyes, didn't it?" Jimmy asked with understanding. He'd never forgotten that feeling since that killer had been after him a few years back.

"Yeah, Gremlin, you'd better believe it." Tony admitted. 'Thank God, it was just Franks! As soon as he found out I was there to tail Sanchez, he was all over it. Apparently, that's exactly what he'd already been doin. So, I left him to it. Wasn't about to get in the guy's way."

"Well, after what that awful family put him through, it was no wonder he wanted a piece of them himself." Abby mused.

"He sure helped save us when those bastards came lookin' for our blood just to get back at Gibbs, though." Tony brought his memories of Mike to a stop solemnly but with a mountain of awe and respect in his voice. "The man was a maverick and I'll never forget him."

"I was always intimidated by him myself. But not as much as I usually am by Agent Gibbs." Jimmy admitted quietly.

"Gotta get over that, Jimster." Abby advised seriously. "Seriously, once you get through that tough guy thing, he's not too bad."

Jimmy nodded silently as he once again faded into the background to listen to what the others had to say about the man they'd just lost.

"I will never forget the look in his eyes as he stood over his son's hospital bed after the doctors' gave him no hope that Liam would live." Ziva offered reverently as she recounted those moments.

_***Flashback***_

_"Hello, Probie."_

_"Hello, Mike. You know this Marine?"_

_"He's my son."_

_"You never told me you had a son."_

_"Didn't find out 'till a couple of years ago. Got a phone call one day. It was him. He tracked me down. We met. Had a few beers. He was just about to deploy. Didn't hear from him again until a couple of days ago. Said he was in trouble."_

_"What kind of trouble?"_

_"Didn't say."_

_"...You wouldn't know it now, but he's got his mother's hair. Used to blow across her face and get in her eyes. She'd get so pissed! And I'd laugh. She died a few years ago. We were only together the six months. Didn't even know she was pregnant when she left."_

_"What do the doctors say?"_

_"What doctors always say. Not much that makes any sense. Doing tests. Brain waves and reflexes. All that neurological stuff. Do you know who did this, Probie?"_

_"Not yet."_

_"Guess you wouldn't tell me if you did."_

_"No. You need a place to stay tonight, Mike?"_

_"End Flashback**_

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean. I was there when he came in that next day." Tony added quietly as he shared that memory with them. "Pretty sure I saw that look. At least until McGee managed to clear the screen Mike was looking at when Gibbs told him clear it."

_"How is he?"  
>"They're done testing. Liam mixed up with him?"<br>"McGee."  
>"Who is he?"<br>"Can't say."  
>"Whatever he's done – good or bad – he's still my boy."<br>"Nothing else I can tell you."  
>"That's not why I'm here."<em>

"Probably the same devastated, shell-shocked look I saw when he came down to my lab to ask for Liam's religious mementos, his rosary's and Liam's mother's while he reverently held them in his hands." Abby recalled sadly.

_"Said it belonged to his mother. Her religion… and mine. It's war and peace. Can you release these?"_

"Even Gibbs could only nod at me to tell me it was okay to let him have them." Abby tearfully recalled.

_"I need one more thing, Probie. A witness."_

"God, when he said that, I thought I was gonna lose it right then and there before they even left my lab." Tears shone in her eyes as she recalled those moments vividly. "Mike was my hero because he kept Gibbs safe for us in Mexico when the bossman left us. I'm really, really gonna miss seeing him come around." Abby offered sadly.

"He was always the perfect gentleman with me, just as Ducky and McGee have always been." Ziva chimed in.

"Speaking of McGee; are you sure he's okay? I know you told me that he didn't abandon me – that he was trusting that you guys would be here for me, but why didn't you tell me where it was he had to go that was so important?" Abby asked tremulously. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Abby." Ziva looked at her as she spoke quietly. "We did not tell you because all we have is speculation."

"You mean you just let him leave without knowing where he was going or if he was really okay? You know Timmy keeps everything locked up tight and doesn't tell us when he's upset or hurting! He thought a lot of Mike, too, you know! And as soft hearted and caring as Timmy is, I know he's feeling for what Gibbs is going through right now just like we are!"

"We agree, Abby. That is why we believe he has gone to help Gibbs get through this difficult first few hours. I think that the funeral has made this loss more real for Gibbs." Ziva replied quietly. "But, it is only what we believe he has gone to do, not what we know for certain."

"But…Gibbs doesn't work through things like that. He gets through it alone in his basement. We all know that." Abby reminded them sadly. "Timmy knows that just as much as we do. All he's gonna do is make Gibbs really mad on top of all of this and that's not gonna end well for either of them."

"Abigail, we must have faith in Timothy's abilities moreseo than that. The young man knows that we all have within us, a breaking point where we cannot handle any more that life is throwing at us; at least, not without someone there to push us to stop trying to go it alone." Ducky reminded her in a soothing tone.

"But… I don't understand… Wouldn't that person be you, Ducky? Or me? We talk to Gibbs about stuff like that like all the time. No one else does."

"No, Abbs." Tony offered unexpectedly. "You're too close and Gibbs would wind up being focused on making sure you're okay through all of this. Not sure why Ducky's not trying to step in, but…"

"Okay, but why McGee?" Abby interrupted.

"Timothy has never been very forthcoming about his family or what he feels deep down inside, as we all know. Perhaps he is able to relate to what Jethro is going through, much more than we believe?" Ducky offered seriously.

"Even if that's true, Ducky, those two never talk about anything except work, ever! Why not you, Tony? You and Gibbs have a much closer relationship than he and McGee do. Everyone knows that, so why aren't you checking on Gibbs before those two wind up making things worse for each other?"

Tony and Ducky exchanged silent glances.

"What?" Abby demanded. "There is something you're not telling me! What is it? What's going on? Tell me you and Gibbs didn't have a fight, Tony!"

"Abby! For cryin' out loud! You make us sound like a couple! Don't get all uptight, alright? It's nothin' like that."

"Abigail, Anthony is correct. It is merely a situation where he feels the same way that you do, in that he feels Timothy is not the best person for the task, but I have insisted that Timothy be left alone to see this through without our interference." Ducky gently admonished her.

"Yeah, Abbs." Tony added carefully. "I agree that Ducky's a better choice over McGee, but since Probie insisted on stickin' himself out there for this, we have to let him spread his wings, even if we're sure he's gonna mess up and fall flat on his face or worse, piss Gibbs off."

"He's gonna get hurt." Abby whimpered.

"Abigail, do allow yourself to remember that Timothy is made of stronger stuff than you give him credit for. I believe he feels that with the death of Mike Franks, Jethro may very well be nearing that breaking point and is quite determined that he be there to help him to not let go."

"OH! Oh, God! Ducky! What if Gibbs leaves again?" Abby wailed.

"All we can do is hope and pray that he doesn't, my dear." Ducky advised. "And remember ."

For countless moments, the silence that carried their shared grief, memories and worry settled in to keep them company. After a while, Jimmy made the decision to break the silence and move this group on towards carrying on, especially since they already had two missing from their midsts and it was a sure thing that when they got back, things were going to need to be more back on track with moving on with life, no matter how painful it was going to be.

"Guys, if you have any more memories of Agent Franks, I think you should share them with us. I'd like to hear more about him."

Abby, Tony and Ziva looked at each other and then at Jimmy and Ducky in turn. Slowly, the grins returned to their faces and new tales began to come forth from them, one after another. The remainder of the evening was spent in a mix of somber and humorous recollections of their experiences with Mike Franks and the way he influenced them through the years.


	5. Chapter 5

His first supply of bourbon was gone from the mason jar in his hand so Gibbse took himself back over to the workbench and poured himself another and drank yet another swallow of it as the vivid fresh memory of the hours he'd spend down here since Mike's death, crafting his mentor's coffin, holding back his own grief with the need to get the job done, began crashing back down on him. It hadn't mattered how tired he was, every stroke of work done by his hands seemed to have been accompanied by one memory or another until he felt like they were suffocating him.

_"Better catch me up, Probie. I'm lost."_  
><em>"So am I. ..."I don't understand. Makes No Sense.<em>  
><em>Tell me. Start at the beginning."<em>

_"Found your prints in his car, Mike."_  
><em>"Figured you probably would."<em>

_"We're getting more alike, you and me, Probie. Even feeling the same pain. I don't know how you didn't go crazy when you lost your little girl. Maybe you did for a while. Maybe you still are. I just know I got to do what's right for my boy. I owe him that."_

_"Hey! We got him."_  
><em>"I knew you'd figure it out eventually, Probie."<em>

_"She's from Mexico. ..We left in a bit of a hurry. They were going to be married. Her family in Baghdad said that she shamed them. She's been in hiding for six months. He was desperate to get her out. I don't think any of this is relevant to your case, Probie."_

_"I guess not, Mike."_

_"I would have thought you'd have been done practicing by now."_  
><em>"There's always something to learn, Mike."<em>  
><em>"Hard lessons."<em>  
><em>"Yeah, some harder than others."<em>

_"Where'd you learn to be such a pain in the ass?"_  
><em>"Working with you."<em>

_"You set yourself up as bait."_  
><em>"The bigger the bait, the bigger the fish you catch"<em>

_"Leyla and Amira's family from Iraq. They hired those two PMCs to find them. And you killed 'em. "You want to know... who the real bad guy is here Mike? Go look in the damn mirror."_

_"You know Mike... I'm used to shells and bodies and cover-ups as your big finale. Something starts off like this don't even want to think about the count."_  
><em>"You can't pin all them past capers on me Probie. Not all them messes were mine."<em>  
><em>"Where was Leyla and Amira?"<em>

_"You don't think I'd... start throwing shots with my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter not safely tucked away do you? - I'm not a child."_

_"No you definitely are not."_  
><em>"Calling me old?"<em>

_"Well, I hope these ole ghosts will tell you what you need to hear. You do hear ghosts, Probie?"_  
><em>"Yeah. Yeah, I see 'em too."<em>  
><em>"I believe we make 'em."<em>  
><em>"We've made our share"<em>  
><em>"Not just with this. With the memories we make. We fill the spaces that we live in with them. That's why I've always tried to make sure that wherever I live, the longer I live there, the spaces become filled with memories – of naked women."<em>

He remembered feeling grateful when the job was done, heartbroken when the funeral home had come to retrieve it and proud to be among those who helped carry it when his mentor had been placed inside and solemnly taken to his place of burial. Even now, with as much liquer as he's drunk tonight, he can still feel the pain of those memories and the agony of still having to stay strong for his team. They'd looked completely crushed at Mike's funeral, allmost as crushed and heartbroken as Mike's own family, his daughter-in-law and innocent granddaughter who couldn't even understand what had happened or where her beloved grandfather had gone or that he wasn't coming back.

_"Ya gotta do what you can for family."  
>"Yeah? What rule is that?"<br>"The unspoken rule"_

Gibbs' breath hitched at that thought and the harsh reminder that only a phone call from himself had brought Mike up off his piece of heaven in Mexico.

_"Hola, Probie."`q```  
>"Hey, Mike."<br>"Yeah?"  
>"How quickly can you get to D.C.?"<br>"How fast do you need me?"  
>"Got something I need you to bring"<em>

_"You brought him in."_

Vance was right. Gibbs was the reason that Mike was dead. A few of the long stifled tears began to blind him as they somehow managed to escape. With a determined slight shake of his head, he locked the tears back away, unwilling to lose that much control, even now, finally lone in his basement with nothing pressing on his time but the agony of his grief, guilt and loneliness, suddenly so thick around him he felt like he was drowning with no life preserver in sight

*****NCIS******

Sitting in the most uncomfortable looking chair in the room, Tim hoped it wasn't Gibbs' favorite. He really did want to stay out of the way. Setting his backpack down off his shoulders, he took out a book and proceeded to get just comfortable enough that he could remain in place and read while still keeping one ear out for any signs of trouble from the basement.

He'd meant what he'd told the man, he wasn't leaving him completely alone. But he had no intention on intruding on his need to work through his grief in his own way, either. Tim knew there was a line between wanting to be alone and needing to not be alone and he fully intended on being there if and when Gibbs pain and grief pushed over that line. Tim's gut was clenched with nerves; he'd never done this kind of thing before.

It wasn't that he'd never tried to be there for people he cared about. He'd just always been laughed at and sent packing, like Gibbs had tried to do tonight. His own determination and worry about the boss were winning out despite the rough start to this night, just like he'd known they would and now that he was here, he wasn't going to fail in his mission. It seemed like forever had gone by before Tim stopped reading, worried about the prolonged silence coming from the basement.

As he looked at his watch to see just how long it had been, he was surprised to see that it was already one in the morning. I really should check on him. _He's been way too quiet._

*****NCIS******

Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs spotted the box he'd been going through not too long ago when he'd managed with Mike's help and everyone else's, to take down the Reynosa Cartel. Almost without thinking, he reached for the box now. Looking through the box of memories once more the pain held inside from all that life had thrown on him through the years grabbing him by the throat; causing him to stumble back for a minute, the combined grief overwhelming as he recalled the hell that Paloma Reynosa had put him and his family and treasured friends through and way they'd targeted Mike and had even gone after his father because of him.

As he regained his balance and stepped back up to the box, he pulled the small stack of mementos out. Slowly, he began to thumb through the photos; Shannon, Kelly and now Mike… his eyes misted even as they moved away from his work bench and found the photo he'd forgotten he still had, over to the side of his work bench; Jenny and himself together in Paris.

_God, the pain she caused my team and even me still hurts like hell, as much damage she managed to do by dying the way she did._

****NCIS****

Tim got up from his chair and made his way quietly to the basement steps to look down. He could see the older man's stooped shoulders as he stood looking through what looked like a small box, could feel the sorrow in the air and as he watched Gibbs look away from the box and over to a photo on the wall, Tim wasn't surprised to see tell-tale signs that something was building within the man below him. Silently, he backed away and headed back to the kitchen, still unwilling to intrude.

****NCIS*****

_"She left me for her career when I loved her enough to stay with her if she'd only asked me after everything we meant to each other, she let herself be taken out instead of fighting her illness she wouldn't even tell me about."_

_"She was dying, Jethro. She knew the deterioration would have been rapid. Debilitating pain, loss of motor skills. As difficult as it is to say, this may have been more merciful."_

_"I'm sorry, Jethro…She put up a hell of a fight."_  
><em>"Not good enough."<em>

Drawing in a pained breath, a new string of questions ran through his mind: _Damn it, what was it with her and Mike? He did the same damn thing! _

_"Too many years of lightin' up have finally caught up with me, Probie. For the past 3 decades, I outran every bullet aimed at me. Can't outrun this. Not with these lungs. Only got a few months left and I plan to live them."_

"Never were one to disappoint, were ya, Mike?"

Suddenly, a wave of white hot anger resurfaced with from within Gibbs with a vengeance at the injustice of it all as his questions from earlier came back to haunt him once more, still unanswered and each still giving the knife in his heart a twist of their own. _Why did they give up when they've both kept me going once or twice?_

_"To more good memories"  
>"Fewer bad ones."<br>"How about fewer altogether?"_

_"Mike Franks might have picked a fight. You and I both know that."_

With the liquor burning through the pain he was trying so hard not to let out, the fury became unstoppable as he picked up his glass once more and turned on his heel away from the box of memories and hurled the jar across the room; hearing the glass break from afar, as the all encompassing fog of emotions clouded his senses.

*****NCIS*****

The shattering of glass a mere half-minute later, froze Tim in his steps momentarily before his mind caught on to what that sound meant. With a sigh of quiet relief, he realized that Gibbs had finally allowed himself to begin to let go, even if it was just a little bit. _It's okay, Boss, go on, let it out_he thought and couldn't help but feel more at ease at the sound of the much needed release that was going on beneath him.

****NCIS*****

As cathartic as that sound of breaking glass had been, it wasn't enough. The wave crashing through him now seemed to be intent on swallowing him whole and there still wasn't any lifeboat in sight. With eyes unfocused from tears stubbornly trying to escape, he reached for something else to throw; anything that would drown out the sound of his own inner pain and sorrow.

As his hand found and held onto the bottle of bourbon he'd been pouring his supply from, he snatched it up and turned back around with nothing more on his mind than hearing that sound again. Drawing his arm back, he found a dead weight on his arm now that prevented him from throwing the bottle. Startled, he blinked, only to find himself face to face with the very agent he'd sent packing hours ago.

"Not like this, Gibbs." Tim urged quietly with sympathy. "It won't bring him back."

"You think I don't know that?" the older man snarled in fury as he pulled his arm free of the restraint and banged the bottle back onto the worktable hard enough that several items from the box rattled on the desk and a couple bounced to the floor.

"No. I know that you know that." The younger agent replied quietly but firmly, his eyes trying to anchor his mentor through the rising storm. "But, it won't take the pain away, either."

Gibbs turned away from the younger man's painful words, his red hot anger radiating from his every pore. "Damn it, McGee! I told you to go home hours ago! What the hell are you still doin' here? "

Tim remained silent as he remained in his spot where he'd come to stop the man from throwing the bottle, waiting for Gibbs to look him in the eye once more before offering him an answer. Breaking one thing was understandable and most likely therapeutic, but breaking more, Tim knew from experience, was cause for concern that the outlet used for this man's grief was leading to an unhealthy and painfully dangerous depression.

Gibbs had already been carrying this around for the week that it had been since Mike's death; a week in which he hadn't had time to grieve or work through his guilt. Working from personal experience, Tim hadn't been willing to let another minute go by with the risk of things deteriorating for Gibbs that way. It certainly would have led to a deeper determination by the stubborn Marine, to get through this alone, burying it all deep inside like he'd done when his family had been ruthlessly targeted by Hernandez all those years ago.

Since they all knew that the man still carried that pain with him every day, it was unwise to let Gibbs carry any more buried pain or hurt to what he already carried with him. Tim was determined to do what he could to help him get it out.

When silence was all he got for his angry question, Gibbs turned his head to glare at Tim, only to be met with unwavering green orbs filled with a bottomless ocean of sympathy and understanding.

"I told you I wasn't leaving you to face this alone. No one needs to have to suffer through grief and loss without someone there for them." Tim finally answered the question quietly without flinching.

Even as the young man spoke, Gibbs anger buffered the words, preventing him from hearing what was really being said despite what he recognized in Tim's eyes.

"You suddenly stopped understanding English, McGee? Get the hell outta here!" Gibbs snarled harshly, his breathing now rapid and harsh with anger.

"No. Gibbs. I can't do that." Tim insisted. He had no idea how he did it, but he managed to keep his voice calm in the face of Gibbs intense anger, despite knowing that it could anger the man further and incur even more of man's wrath. He somehow managed to word his intentions to stand by his boss, again without using the man's title. He'd realized earlier that leaving the older man's title out of this most personal and heart-wrenching situation was vital. They didn't need the reminder of their roles getting in the way of getting through this grieving process. It seemed to be working so far.

"Damn it, McGee! What the hell's wrong wi…." Gibbs demanded with more volume than Tim had ever heard directed at him before.

"Will you just listen to me for a minute? Please?" Tim interrupted without flinching or losing eye contact, as he put himself out on the very edge of that limb he was offering as the life preserver he knew the older man needed.

Maybe it was the unwavering determination and sympathy he saw in his agent's demeanor and heard in his voice, or maybe it was the unusual pleading and volume in the young man's tone or maybe it was the almost desperate pleading he saw in those green eyes now.

He wasn't sure which it was, but suddenly, Gibbs found himself shaken loose from the wave of anger enough to see the man standing before him as a person and not as the target for his rage. Silently he waited for whatever Tim wanted to say, his breathing still harsh and heavy and his eyes still bright with unshed tears.

Shaken by Gibbs' sudden silence and his glassy-eyed stare, it took Tim a minute to realize the boss was in actuality, letting him have his say. Taking a breath and slowly letting it out, he dug in and offered the best he had from the depths of his heart, hoping it was enough.

"I don't know if you've ever had someone here for you when you've needed them to help you through the stuff you've been through. I know you've had a lot of pain in the past and I couldn't even imagine how much losing your family hurt and I'm not entirely sure whether you had someone there to help you through. I can only hope that you have, at least at some point. Either way, I'm here. You see me as a kid, always have and always will but there's one thing you don't know and that's that I've know what this kind of loss feels like and I live with survivor's guilt every damn day. That's before the pain kicks in…God knows I've been there so many times, the list seems endless."

Gibbs continued to glare silently as Tim took a breath and continued on.

"Don't get me wrong, I know this is different, it has to be much harder and hurts a lot more because you and Franks were really close, but Gibbs, I'm not gonna sit here and let you self destruct like this." Tim told him firmly without raising his voice. "And I'm pretty sure Franks wouldn't be too happy with either of us, if I did."

As Tim's brutally honest words filtered into Gibbs' bourbon addled mind, yet another memory came back with a flash, nearly bringing him to his knees.

_"We're getting more alike, you and me, Probie. Even feeling the same pain. I don't know how you didn't go crazy when you lost your little girl. Maybe you did for a while. Maybe you still are."_

_"Ya gotta do what you can for family."_

As the painful yet poignant memory struck his soul, it literally knocked the breath from him. The only problem was, alcohol and emotional turmoil didn't go hand in hand and he had to clumsily re-adjust his footing. Gibbs felt arms wrap around him to stop him from falling; arms that were stronger than they looked as they held him up and held him close until the older man was steady on his feet. Tim wouldn't let him fall; he knew that.

"I've got you. I'm here." Tim spoke quietly into the space between them, his tone still soothing and unwavering.

"Why?" Gibbs finally steadied and pulled his head back to look at Tim with confusion borne of his plethora of emotions he could no longer decipher or contain.

"Because I'm not gonna let you go through this alone." Tim reminded him with determination residing in his quiet tone.

"Someone to help you hold on." Gibbs recalled Tim's words from earlier, distantly as if disassociated from himself at the moment.

The older man sounded so alone and full of sorrow, it nearly broke Tim's heart. With his arm now holding Gibbs up under his right arm, hand clasped firmly on Gibbs' left ribcage, Tim gently urged him back up onto his feet. "That's right." He reassured him firmly.

_"I did what I could."  
>"Yeah. You always do."<em>

As the pain of another memory hit, Gibbs somehow steadied himself and withdrew from the young man's supportive arm almost completely. He looked at Tim once more and saw his emotions mirrored silently on the young face.

It was strange, but seeing that made him feel as though the final hurdle had been jumped and the wall of grief that lay in front of him had been scaled and could finally be dealt with.

Tim's heart broke, tears beginning to blur his own vision at the pain so visible on his mentor's face and in his eyes. Silently, he moved, wrapping the older man in an embrace hoping that it was the physical grounding he seemed to need at that moment.

"I won't let you shatter like that jar, I promise. It's okay to let go." He urged softly as he fought to hold back his own feelings.

Stiffly wrapped in the embrace of his agent, Gibbs felt his iron clad control slip and he finally let go of the wave of tears that kept threatening. He tried to pull away, embarrassment at being weak starting to wash over him, but found the supporting grip Tim had tighten relentlessly as the desperate determination of his agent grew.

"You can let go now. I've got you." Tim gently urged one more time, his sympathetic voice stronger now, sending the older man's emotions over the levee in a wave so strong, it literally buckled Gibbs' knees.

Tim moved quickly and tightened his hold on the boss to stop Gibbs from collapsing to the floor. Instead, he eased the descent and sat there holding the older man while the steady stream of long restrained tears and grief flowed with silent sobs .

In shared pain and grief, Tim finally allowed himself to cry silently alongside his mentor as he held onto him through the raging storm. There was no more need for words; no place for them either. The wall had been scaled and now the storm raged without mercy. All that was left to do now was hold on for as long as Tim was needed.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Just wanted to take a minute to thank all you wonderful readers and reviewers  
>Your readership and wonderful support is greatly appreciated.<em>

_Special thanks goes out to Emerald - for your support and permission to name you as the person for whom this was written._

* * *

><p>Three and a half hours later, the house was eerily silent. Tim shifted his weight onto his other foot as he stood staring out Gibbs' back porch doors, his ears trained for any sound of movement or distress from the couch behind him where Gibbs now lay sleeping. He wasn't even sure he remembered how he'd gotten the older man up the basement steps or how he'd gotten him to fall asleep without a fight on the couch, but Tim smiled a small smile as he recalled watching the worn out older man settle comfortably when Tim had lifted his head and placed a pillow under it and then covered him with a blanket from the bed upstairs in the guest bedroom.<p>

Sighing softly now, Tim looked back to the couch towards the peacefully sleeping focus of his vigil. Gibbs was still sleeping calmly probably with the aid of all the bourbon he'd ingested earlier. With the smile still playing on his face, Tim toed off his shoes and traipsed back through the house to the basement stairs, intent on straightening any mess the boss had made earlier, so the older man wouldn't have to face it in the morning.

The smile disappeared from his face as the events from earlier came back in full Technicolor and he recalled the pain and raw emotion he'd never before dreamt he'd see from his boss. It wasn't that Tim didn't think Gibbs ever hurt or needed to cry or vent, but more that Tim just never thought he'd be the one Gibbs would allow in like that. Shaking his head at his thought, he mentally corrected his words, Gibbs hadn't let him in, Tim had literally stormed the gate and refused to budge. There was a huge difference, but Tim would be the first to admit, he was genuinely thankful that he'd been here when Gibbs had finally reached the point where he'd needed to let it out. That had been Tim's goal for tonight, being here if and when Gibbs needed someone to help him hold on. He'd do it again if he had to, no questions asked.

Standing in the man's basement now, he looked around at the mess he'd walked into; broken glass scattered along one wall along with the amber liquid that had been in that bottle and a pile of things scattered on the floor close to his workbench on the opposing wall. Beginning with the far wall, Tim set about cleaning up the mess, taking great pains to do it quietly so he wouldn't wake Gibbs. When the first mess was completely cleaned up, he made his way over to the workbench and began picking up everything that had made its way to the floor earlier.

A few photos and a piece of paper with what looked like Gibbs' writing on it, were all on their way to the little box on the workbench when Tim froze in his movements and read the piece of paper.

_Rule 51 - Sometimes you're wrong._

Tim frowned. For some reason this rule seemed as if it had been written as a negative slur against Gibbs himself and that didn't sit well with the younger man. That wasn't the problem though. Tim worried that deep down inside, Gibbs might actually be believing badly about his abilities or something of that nature, based on the rule.

Tony always spoke of there being 50 rules so Tim knew this one had to be a fairly recent addition. With the events of the past few months, the feeling in Tim's gut about this wasn't exactly a good one.

Traipsing on up the stairs after he'd cleaned up the mess, Tim started a pot of coffee, desperate for the caffeine to keep him awake. Looking at his watch, he was startled to see that it was going on 5AM. He'd been down in the basement for almost an hour and was now worried that he'd possibly missed being there for the sleeping man during that time. Even with the basement door open, he hadn't heard a sound. He just hoped that it wasn't because he'd been unfocused.

Finishing the pot of coffee preparations quickly, Tim made a beeline for the living room, his eyes instantly searching the couch for signs that Gibbs was restless or awake. With a sigh of relief, he realized the older man was still peacefully out of it so he took himself back to the kitchen to wait for the brewing cycle to finish so he could fix himself a cup of coffee. When that had been accomplished, Tim returned to the back porch double doors, taking up a leaning posture against the doorframe as one of his hands remained open, holding up his coffee cup while the other hand cradled it. As his eyes drifted to the full moon up in the sky outside, his thoughts finally cleared away, for the first time since Mike Franks had been killed.

Before he could even think on anything else, the noise of shifting movement behind him, reached his ears, alerting Tim to the fact that Gibbs was indeed waking up. Silently, the young man left him in peace, making his way back to the man's kitchen to fix him the coffee he'd no doubt be demanding soon enough. Tim was disappointed. He'd hoped that Gibbs would be able to sleep longer, but then again, the man was known for always being an early riser so it wasn't that big of a surprise to find him waking up now. Still, only having three hours sleep under his belt after the emotional upheaval he'd just been through, gave Tim reason to continue to worry about his boss.

Knowing the man took his coffee black with nothing whatsoever added, Tim carried the man's cup of it back into the living room and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch as he watched Gibbs sit up and wipe his hand across his face.

"Coffee." Gibbs muttered roughly, as he continued to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

"On the table in front of you." Tim offered quietly.

Gibbs nodded that he'd heard and reached for the cup, just barely able to hold it steady as he picked it up and brought it to his mouth. Taking a minute to enjoy the hot liquid drink he lived on, the man thought of nothing else for that space in time but his eyes traveled to the young man sitting across from him, staring off into the backyard through the large glass paned doors.

Swallowing down the last of his coffee, the older man set the cup back down and sat back against the couch with a sigh of frustration.

"Why are you still here, McGee?" Gibbs groused quietly with a bleary glare.

"I meant what I said, Gibbs. I'm not le…"

"Leaving, Yeah, I heard ya the first time and the second."

Tim remained silent in the face of Gibbs returning ire.

Letting out a deep sigh of frustration and resignation, the Team Leader sat assessing the young man across from him. "Something on your mind, McGee?"

"Are you okay?" was Tim's only response as he focused his eyes on his boss now.

"Workin' on it." Gibbs answered with rare open honesty.

Tim nodded as he got up from the chair. "You hungry? I could fix you some breakfast, if you'd like. I'm sure you've got stuff in your kitchen I could …."

"Sit." Gibbs interrupted to order.

Tim closed his mouth and did as he was told.

"Out with it."

The young man closed his eyes for a minute to gather his thoughts into some semblance of order and polite request rather than personal invasion. "I was just wondering what Rule 51 was all about." He admitted finally as he happened a glance at the man across from him.

Now it was Gibbs' turn to close his eyes and gather his thoughts. The silence stretched between them until Tim was certain he'd crossed that line that should never be crossed. Standing up on legs that suddenly began to tremble, he offered his apology. "Boss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."

Gibbs shook his head in denial and motioned for Tim to sit back down. "You didn't."

After another minute of nearly uncomfortable silence, Tim offered an explanation for his question. "I found it written on a piece of paper when I was picking up the things that had fallen on the floor in your basement – don't worry, I put them back on your workbench and left everything else alone."

"I need more coffee." The boss got up and led the way, gesturing for Tim to follow him.

Five silent minutes later both of them were sitting at the kitchen table, with their coffees between them and the uncomfortable silence that had settled in and was beginning to breed restlessness from at least Tim's perspective. Every second that passed by increased his urge to finally admit he'd done all he could do and that the time had come for him to let go and leave the man in peace.

"Rule 51 was drafted after the Reynosa mess." Gibbs finally admitted quietly as the not too old memory of what was going through his mind at the time he'd written that one came back to him now.

_"Back again, Marine?"  
>"Not anymore"<br>"Not what I heard."  
>"It's done."<br>"No such thing as an ex-marine. That's forever."  
>"Right Not even gonna ask where you been. Guess the question is 'where you goin'?"<br>"I dunno."  
>"Look at ya! Come here to mope?"<br>"Nope. I came for a job."  
>"My God! You really wanna be a cop, you gotta let a lotta old stuff go. Learn a lotta new stuff to take its place. Think you can do that?"<em>

"I think I'd make a good cop"

Tim nodded through Gibbs' silence as he took in what that meant and everything that was included in that statement; all the lives thrown in turmoil or lost, uprooted and threatened, including what he, himself had gone through during that horrible trip to Mexico with Abby. The sheer enormity of everything that had happened as well as what had almost happened because of those people now filtered through Tim's mind, all forming the definition of what Gibbs meant by what little he'd just said.

Long silent moments passed with neither of them speaking, both now comfortable with the tranquility that short explanation had brought about, especially after the night they'd had. Staring into his coffee as he gently moved the spoon around in it, Tim pondered how it was that the man sitting across from him had made it through so much personal loss and hell without completely breaking down by life.

While having always believed the man was as tough as they came when talking about Marine stock, he finally felt that he actually could understand on the deeper level, just how strong a person, Gibbs really was. It left Tim feeling awed and inspired to become a stronger person himself. But, it also brought a deep worry to the surface of his mind that had escaped to the far recesses of it some years ago, but had never completely disappeared.

Not comfortable asking the man to dispel his worry, Tim got up from the table, glanced at the boss' empty coffee cup and fixed refills for them both. Setting the boss' cup back down on the table in front of the older man, Tim kept his own refill on the counter in front of him as he began perusing the stock of items in Gibbs' refrigerator. "You need to eat, Boss. I'm gonna fix you some breakfast."

Gibbs watched in silent amazement as Tim pulled out the ingredients he needed to make breakfast for them and without another word, set about gathering the cookware and utensils he needed and began mixing the ingredients.

Without speaking into the silence between them, Gibbs continued to scrutinize his agent as he worked. He marveled at the way this young man's strength of character had come to light earlier that morning, during some of the most darkest moments of Gibbs' personal life, when that rare loss of control over his emotions had literally knocked Gibbs off his feet. Tim had been right there to catch him, keeping his promise not only to be there when he was needed, but also to not let Gibbs fall.

No one else had ever done that for him before except Mike way back when and he had to admit it was because no one else outside of Mike and now Tim, had been stubborn enough to plant their determination deeper than his own objections to their company before. He'd always managed to push them away firmly enough that they bided by his wishes, leaving him to grieve and stuff it all down deep inside, unwilling to deal with it any more than he'd had to. Tim was the first person to refuse to leave him alone in his own pain and misery.

Gibbs had never doubted that the young man had strong moral character or that he was a good guy who cared a hell of a lot about his friends and family. In fact, Gibbs plainly agreed with Abby's description of this young man, that he had' the heart of a lion' and knew that no one had ever disputed that claim. Still, it came as a surprise; this choice of Tim's to assume responsibility over Gibbs' well-being immediately following Mike's funeral.

The young man had never done it before and Gibbs had to wonder what had stopped him before or better yet, what had given him the courage to assert himself this far out now. While Tim had certainly become a strong, capable agent, who had grown significantly, not only in skills on the job, but in strength and backbone, willing to stand up and be taken seriously. Mike certainly wasn't the first person Gibbs had lost to this job that had been close to him since Tim's tenure on this team, so what had been the catalyst?

The smell of food and the sound of a plate being set down in front of him with yet another refilled coffee mug pulled Gibbs from his musings and put a smile of appreciation on his face.

"Thanks McGee."

Tim silently offered a small smile in response as he set his own plate down and sat down back down.

"Been pretty quiet." Gibbs observed quietly.

Tim smiled softly. "Thought that's the way you like it."

Gibbs smirked. "Can't argue with that."

Without further need for words, they dug into their food, the silence between them now actually comfortable. Once breakfast was gone, Tim immediately got up and refilled Gibbs' mug with the last of the brewed coffee before returning to the counter and beginning to clean up the mess he'd made cooking.

"McGee."

Tim stopped in his task and turned to look his at the man speaking to him.

"Sit."

Drying his hands on the dishtowel lying nearby, Tim did as he was asked and sat back down at the table, waiting for whatever shoe was getting ready to drop.

"The list seems endless? You've been there?"

At the repetition of what he'd said to Gibbs hours ago was repeated back to him now, Tim's eyes blinked to do their best to stow away what reaction he couldn't hide but wasn't ready to expose to this man who was still getting through his own sorrows.

"McGee?" Gibbs pushed without heat.

Tim shook his head. "No. I'm not here to talk about me."

"We are now." Gibbs replied with the tone that used when he didn't want to be argued with. "Tell me about the list."

Breathing out raggedly, Tim shook his head again. "No. Please, don't ask me about this right now." Standing up, Tim pushed his chair back in. "As long as you're okay, I'm gonna go. I'll see you at work on Monday, Boss." Tim turned and left the kitchen, leaving Gibbs wondering what the hell had just happened, yet again.

Getting to his feet, the boss called out to his retreating agent. "McGee!"

With a sigh of resignation and worry, Tim stopped in his trek toward the door and turned back to find Gibbs standing in the kitchen doorway, watching him. "Just spit it out, will ya? Something's obviously botherin'' you. Now's the time to tell me."

"Boss, I… I'm worried this might be the last straw for you and you're leaving us again. Only this time you won't come back." Tim finally admitted, as he looked Gibbs straight on.

Feeling like he'd just been sucker punched, Gibbs closed his eyes for a half-minute. His heart twisted at what Tim was actually admitting. How long had he been worried about Gibbs leaving? _Why hadn't he ever said anything before?_

Opening his eyes again, he gestured towards his living room, "C'mon, sit." And he led the way, taking up a seat on his couch and watching as Tim followed him in and sat at the other end of the couch, looking quite uncomfortable now.

"Relax, McGee. Just thought we'd clear the air. So, talk to me."

Tim nodded and swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Can I ask you a question?"

Gibbs gestured for Tim to continue.

"When you came back the last time you… to help Ziva and then Fornell, what was it that got you to stay?"

Gibbs closed his eyes and thought back.

_"I just came by to tell you that Derrick Paulson has been cleared of all charges. You saved that boy's life."_

_"He did most of the work."_

_"Don't sell yourself short. Or is it too late for that?"_

_"Is this supposed to be some sort of pep talk to get me to stay, Jen...You don't want me back."_

_"No, I don't."_

_"Worried you won't be able to handle me, Director?"_

_"No, Jethro. I'm afraid you won't be able to handle yourself. You have already been in two comas. You might not come out of the third. The fact is, you're good. The best. When you're as good at something as you are, when you can make a difference like you can, you just don't quit."_

Suddenly, Tim couldn't handle the strain of Gibbs' silence, coupled with the overwhelming feeling that he'd finally stepped too far over that line of asking too personal a question. "Boss, I don't need to know. But, if you wouldn't mind, I do need to ask you if you'd do something for me; for us, the team."

Opening his eyes again, Gibbs looked scrutinizingly at his agent for a half-second before nodding. He knew that whatever was going through Tim's mind, had to mean a lot to him or he wouldn't be asking Gibbs for something that everyone knew the man didn't do; favors. "Spit it out, Tim."

"If leaving's what you feel you need to do, could you at least let us say goodbye this time?" A heartbeat later, Tim threw out the other request that had long bothered him about this man's first hiatus. "And maybe consider letting Abby tell us you're alright this time instead of forcing her to keep it a secret?"

Without waiting for a response, Tim turned and left, the room; the house, needing to breathe freely before the emotional depth he'd just dared to breach with the man inside, choked him.


	7. Chapter 7

Monday morning found the team members strolling in to the squad room as usual, with Gibbs already sitting at his desk, hard at work. With typical chatti-bickering, Tony and Ziva arrived off the elevator mid argument and while Gibbs usually paid scant attention to what they were squabbling about, the topic this morning grabbed his attention immediately.

"Tony, I am sure McGee has a perfectly reasonable explanation why he did not answer your calls or return them."

"All weekend, Ziva? I don't think so. Besides, that's literally breaking Gibbs' rule, remember? 'Never be unreachable.' Tony reminded her.

"Doesn't cover pesky co-workers, DiNozzo." Gibbs quipped from behind his desk without even looking up from his work.

"Hey, Mornin', Boss! Okay, I give up. But still, don't you think it's odd that McGee hasn't answered his phone **all **weekend? I mean, especially after the week we had last week? Doesn't that worry some body around here?" Tony demanded as he kept his eyes on his boss. He hadn't seen the man since Mike Frank's funeral last week and the fact that Gibbs hadn't been home when Tony tried to check on him yesterday had kept Tony wondering how he was doing.

Gibbs' eyes snapped up and immediately looked over to his junior agent's empty desk, the young man's words coming back to him now:

_"I've got you. I'm here... Because I'm not gonna let you go through this alone."_

"If he's not here in ten minutes, get Abby to track him while you two go find him." Gibbs said quietly as he continued to look broodingly at Tim's desk.

No sooner had the boss spoken the words, than did Tim appear from the back elevator, carrying two drink trays full of drinks with him. "Good morning. Sorry to cut it so close, Boss, but, wanted to stop and get everyone a little breakfast. I'm sure we could all use the pick-me-up." He offered as he set a drink and a wrapped breakfast sandwich on each of their desks before returning to his own.

"Thanks, McGee." Gibbs offered almost immediately, as did Ziva.

"Thank you, McGee. That was very thoughtful of you."

"No big deal, but you're welcome." Tim smiled as he focused on opening his emails and going through them.

"Yeah, thanks, McScout." Tony said with a touch of snideness.

"You're welcome, Tony." Tim answered almost offhandedly without looking away from his computer screen.

With a glare from the boss, Tony settled down and got back to his own computer screen and the work on his desk. Nothing more was said and the morning marched on with a great deal of quiet in the squad room.

The first time Gibbs left the squad room for a refill of his coffee or whatever else he'd gone after, Tony was up out of his chair like a fully loaded spring – determined to find out what he wanted to know. "Spill it, McGee."

"Spill what, Tony?" Tim asked in surprise as his attention was drawn away from his work and onto Tony who'd come to stand in front of his desk.

"Just where the hell did you go when you left here on Friday? You went to Gibbs' didn't you? What happened? Did you piss him off? Nah, I'll bet he sent you packin' the minute you showed up, didn't he?" Tony demanded.

"Tony. It's none of your business where I went when I left here. I'm not gonna have this conversation with you." Tim told him firmly before returning his attention to his work; effectively turning his back on the irate older man.

The Senior Field Agent was left fuming and feeling his seniority was being mocked which was unacceptable. Taking the high road, he walked around Tim's desk to where he could lean over the younger man's computer monitor and leaned in so close, Tim had to actually push his chair back to get out of Tony's breathing space. "You don't think I have the right to know where you disappeared to? As the Senior Field Agent in charge of this team at the time you pulled your little disappearing act, I have that right, you know. Tell me!"

"What? No. You can stop trying to pull rank on me about it, DiNozzo, because it doesn't change the fact that it's not your business. We weren't technically on the clock which means it was my own personal time. Leave it alone." Tim snapped as he angrily stood up.

As the two faced off with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, Gibbs silently returned to the squad room and nonchalantly went back to his desk, knowing his presence would be enough to halt whatever his boys were in the middle of, without even a word being said. Being able to revel in the fact that Tim had come back to work as if nothing had happened, thereby keeping all things normal between them, had gone a long way in buoying Gibbs' mood this morning and even this argument happening in his squad room between his boys wasn't going to sour it.

In fact, since he'd heard the argument, he couldn't help but be proud of Tim for standing up to Tony and for keeping quiet about the events of Friday. Senior Field Agent or not, Tony often times pushed too hard and crossed the line into being nosey and Gibbs was not going to get in the middle of that. Just as he expected, Tim immediately backed off, sitting back down in his chair and getting back to work, ignoring Tony and whatever his reaction to Gibbs' return might be.

The rest of the day seemed to become filled with more and more tension as the day wore on, even if it all seemed to be radiating from Tony's corner of the room. Tony felt disrespected; his feeling the need to know what was going on, especially since Gibbs had been absent when Tim had taken himself off work and Tony had been in charge at the time, felt right. He resented Tim's attitude and refusal to explain himself and if he were honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he also resented Gibbs for not interfering and setting Tim straight about it.

When Gibbs gave the call at the end of the day to go home, Tony was the first one out – without a word to anyone. Tim left in his normal fashion, shutting down his work station and saying goodbye to Gibbs and offering to walk out with Ziva. Nothing had changed for him, except that Tony's behavior seemed to be a non-issue with him whereas he would normally be asking what had happened to make his teammate so disgruntled and angry.

Gibbs was pondering that new occurrence when he heard Ziva verbalize that very question. "McGee, does it not bother you that Tony is very upset with you?"

"A little, Ziva. But, I can't help it if Tony thinks his rank gives him the right to intrude into my private life. I've put up with it for over 7 years. I don't have to put up with it anymore." Tim replied calmly with a touch of apology as they walked toward the elevator.

"What changed? Why do you suddenly put your leg down about it?"

Tim chuckled as they stood at the elevator, waiting for it to arrive. "Foot, Ziva. Put my foot down. And there are just some things that that you should be able to not share with the world; offered up for public discussion or ridicule."

"I agree with you. And I am glad to see you finally choose to see that as well." She admonished him. "You have let him get by with invading your privacy for far too long, McGee."

"Yeah, I know. But, it stops now. Hey, you wanna go get some dinner? My treat?" Tim offered as the elevator opened up and they got on it.

"I would like that. Thank you." Ziva answered.

Gibbs smiled as the elevator took his agents away from work for the night. Most everything was back to normal. Anything that wasn't would take some time to work through, but he wasn't worried. He knew his team would rise to the occasion and stay strong.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Fasten your seat belts and keep all hands and feet inside the cockpit, ladies and gentlemen, we're in for a little bumpy ride._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: You guys are such a great audience, I can't help but go ahead and give you the next chapter._

_just remember - buckle up and hang on tight! _

* * *

><p><em>Two Months Later – July 25, 2011<br>_

"Damn it!" Tony exclaimed angrily as he practically jumped from his chair behind his desk, his white shirt now boldly splashed with a large brown patch that seemed to be spreading rapidly, his fingers pulling his shirt away from his chest and trying to keep it there. "I friggin' hate Mondays! Not bad enough traffic was a royal pain in the ass, making me late, but the stupid elevator was jammed when I got here, forcing me to take the stairs and now my coffee's out to get me!"

"You alright?" Tim asked with concern as the image of his teammate being scalded assaulted his mind. Without even thinking on his actions, he rose from his chair and nearly stepped towards his partner to offer assistance.

"Yeah, I'm just peachy! Jeez, McGee, didn't anything I just said, register on that brain of yours before you opened your mouth?" Tony sniped angrily as he whipped open the filing cabinet drawer next to his desk and yanked out a clean dress shirt from his stash, putting in on with angry jerking motions as he continued to rant at Tim's choice of question.. "Can't believe you'd ask me such a dumb question! What' you forget your smart pill this morning or somethin'?"

The silence that greeted the end of Tony's rant was deafening and so thick with tension and shock it was almost visible. Startled from his work by the angry tones vibrating off his Senior Field Agent at the moment the younger man had erupted from his chair, Gibbs could only watch as the entire surreal moment seemed to happen in slow motion, from the first blur of motion to the last spoken word. He should have seen this coming since Tony had been acting pissed at Tim for the past two months.

Every day had been getting just a bit more tense and disturbing between them; with Tony issuing all the anger through deliberately hurtful jibes or put downs, while Tim steadfastly let them fall off his back, but continually pulled further and further away from any unnecessary contact or interaction with Tony.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Team Leader couldn't help but notice his youngest Agent seemingly frozen in place, his eyes closed, his shoulders stooping a tiny bit more with every passing moment. Unaware that he was being watched, Tim let out a ragged breath, lifted his shoulders, his head moving with them, blinked a time or two and sat back down in his chair, immediately going back to work, without another word to anyone and the moment was gone.

Gibbs frowned as he watched his youngest agent silently shove his emotions back below the surface and get back to work. It wasn't that the boss was pissed at Tim for handling that like a trooper; rather, he was angry that the situation coming about at all. He should have reined Tony in weeks ago and forced his Senior Field Agent to deal with whatever the hell this was about or get over it. This was it. Whatever this was, would be ended today, the boss would make damn sure of it.

Snapping his eyes over to his Senior Field Agent, he let his anger show, glaring in his direction so fiercely, Tony must have felt it because he looked over at the boss a mere half-minute later. Before anything else could be said, Gibbs' desk phone rang, disrupting the negatively charged atmosphere in what seemed like perfect timing.

"Yeah, Gibbs. Got it, Thanks." Gibbs hung up his phone and sounded the call. "Gear up! McGee, go get Ducky."

"Whatta we got, Boss?" Tony asked like he always did, as if the past few minutes hadn't happened. The anger he'd been carrying around like a trophy, now stuffed in his back pocket while the case took priority.

"Dead Marine. Anacostia River Bend" The boss answered as he led the way to the elevator with his agents on his trail, nothing further being said about anything else. Everyone would be thinking of the deceased victim and concentrating on solving the questions that would arise from his death.

*******NCIS*******

Three hours later found the team scrambling for leads as to who had killed their victim, Corporal Brad Johnson. As Tim ran the traces on the man's background, Tony hunted the details of his military record and Ziva pursued his family records while Gibbs retreated in search for some fresh air, the chance to stretch his legs and his next fresh cup of coffee.

When the boss returned to the squad room a mere thirty minutes later, it was to find his team gearing up in anticipation of his return, which could only mean they'd found enough evidence to bring someone in or at least track them down. "Whattaya got?"

"Boss, Johnson was just an innocent bystander at a bust gone badly. He probably had no idea he'd stumbled into the territory of the resident drug pushers over there." Tony explained while Ziva stood by his side, ready and waiting to move out. Tim, on the other hand, remained at his desk, in anticipation of more information needing to be posted on the plasma for the team to cement their cause to go after their suspects.

"Yeah? And we know this how, exactly?" Gibbs pushed.

"Abby got a positive id for the fingerprints off of our deceased man. Actually, she got three, but you get the idea." Tony quipped as Tim silently put the newest information up on the screen for the boss to see firsthand.

"They match gang members who are notorious for selling narcotics to neighborhood children at their playgrounds" Ziva supplied from her Intel.

"Their hangout, according to the local population, is an abandoned warehouse in Anacostia." Tony supplied seriously, as he finally looked up at the big screen as if needing to reaffirm what he was saying.

"And you figured we'd just go bustin' in and haul the lot of them out in handcuffs?" Gibbs asked dryly while he perused the information Tim had sent to the big screen.

"Well, yeah, Boss." Tony smirked,

"Okay, let's go!" Gibbs instructed as he turned from the screen, nodded slightly in thanks to Tim and went to his desk to gear up. In less than a minute, he was striding toward the elevator with Tony and Ziva hot on his heels.

Tim snapped up his backpack and caught up to the rest of them as the elevator doors opened for them.

"Great timing, McSlowpoke" Tony quipped cheekily, his ever present anger still audible amidst the sarcasm.

Tim frowned but held his tongue, keeping his eyes looking straight ahead, as they rode the car down in an unpleasant quietness that settled in for the ride.

The ride out to the warehouse was loaded with phone calls for backup and last minute verifications of directions , the arrival at the warehouse in question coming before they'd even had time to regroup their thinking. Backup was enroute and they were only after three people who reportedly hung out there; but still they were wary.

"Watch yourselves," Gibbs warned as he led the way toward the back entrance, step by careful step until the back door was reached and he inched his way inside, stepping to the side enough that his agents could be right on his tail.

There was no answer as his agents did exactly what was expected of them, but as they moved in carefully with their weapons drawn when they were spotted and all hell broke loose, gunfire erupting at nearly the same time.

"IT'S THE FEDS! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" came the panicked yelling of the some of the group inside.

"Crap! Boss..." Tony pulled Ziva in for cover as a bullet whizzed past them. "They've got semis! Watch your backs!"

The chaos doubled as dirt bags ran for cover while some fired at the agents. Gibbs ducked behind a crate with Tim and they remained crouched low as they defended themselves and their teammates. They could hear people scrambling and knew that the men that had been stacking the supplies and the sloppy dirt bags that had been standing guard were moving to grab the weapons that Tony had spotted.

All four of the agents remained behind their covers and tried to peck the shooters off from behind their defensive spots. For what seemed like forever, shots were traded off, with cries of pain being heard as Tony nailed the bastard trying to sneak back up the back stairwell and Gibbs took out the one aiming for Ziva while she was busy taking out the one hiding behind the nearest row of barrels and Tim got the dirt bag who had his weapon aimed at Tony. Tired of playing monkeys in a a barrel, Gibbs moved up, a half dozen steps in front of his agents, still being careful to stay covered.

One particular gleam of steel caught the light just right, a new direction for one of the shooters; aiming straight for the back of Gibbs' head. Tim saw it as if in slow motion and reacted, instinctively, raising his weapon to take the shooter out, pulling the trigger – in the same instant a splash of searing pain lanced through his head as the sound he'd never forget reached his ears again, that of a bullet whipping by his head, as his head seemed to explode in agony, he heard his boss cry out in pain, just as the blackness rushed up to meet him and he heard no more.

"BOSS!"  
>"MCGEE!"<p>

Tony and Ziva both cried out instinctively but were quickly drawn back into the fight as another shot pinged the barrel next to Tony and reminded them they still weren't in the clear. They knew back up was still at least two minutes out and didn't want to let these bastards win so they remained protected behind their covered spots and silently waited and watched as the now disorganized gang of crooks scrambled to protect themselves, most running like rats from a sinking ship, until suddenly, the warehouse became eerily quiet.

Both agents quickly made frantic calls for help to both Ducky and 911 before any more time was wasted. Ziva had been counting as the place began emptying out and she knew that there was still one shooter left. But she also knew that her teammates needed help.

"Tony! Cover me!" she whispered fiercely as she began to rise from her crouched location.

"Go." Tony nodded his agreement, knowing exactly what she was doing. Quickly, he sent his eyes around the inside perimeter of the building, looking for the one shooter that hadn't left as his partner bolted quickly over to where Gibbs and McGee had fallen, not but ten feet from each other.

Ziva reached Gibbs first, whipping off her jacket, wadding it up and using it to firmly apply pressure to his wounded shoulder.

"Ah!" Gibbs moaned in pain as she applied the pressure needed to stop the bleeding.

"Where else are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. H…lp me sit…up." He managed to instruct her through the short breaths of pained breathing he was experiencing.

"No! Stay down! There is still one shooter left!" Ziva warned him as she restrained him with her hand on his good shoulder.

"McGee!"

"If you have the strength to hold this on your wound and apply pressure, I can check on him." She offered.

"GO!" he demanded of her as he let her set his arm up so his hand could hold the jacket in place over his wound.

Ziva got to McGee almost instantly, her heart nearly stopping at the pool of blood under his head, his pallor ghostly white and his body as still as death. "Oh, McGee!" She felt for proof of his still beating heart, even though she knew that a bleeding wound meant he was still alive and felt marginally better when the pulse, weak as it was, could be felt under her fingertips.

"How is he?" Tony's question came from behind her, causing her heart to jump with shock. The look on his face was off as was the tenor of his voice. _Something was wrong and why was he checking on her like this? _But Ziva's mind shrugged off the questions, too caught up in concentrating on taking care of her injured teammates and so she gave him the answer he was after. "I do not know exactly. He is injured, unconscious and bleeding. Where is that last shooter, Tony? Do you have him in custody?" she asked him urgently.

"No, he doesn't. " the unexpected and dangerously cocky voice of the last of the drug dealers in question came from behind both of them as he stepped out around Tony where he could put them both under the threat from his weapon and leveled it at them as he growled menacingly at them. "He's smart enough to do what he's told when there's a loaded gun staring back at him. Hopefully you're as smart as you are gorgeous, yourself. Now, put your hands where I can see them. Now!"

Ziva disregarded the man's order, still trying to stop the blood flow from Tim's head wound. "This man needs medical attention, right now!" She told him with full-blown fury raging through her eyes and her voice.

"That's easy enough to fix." The dirt bag replied flippantly as he moved his weapon and aimed it straight at Tim's heart. "He's not my problem. You damn nosy cops storm in here uninvited, try to take us down, kill half my friends, run the rest of them off and interfere with my business and now you expect me to give a damn if a couple of you do-gooders wind up dead? Not likely!" He shouted angrily as he cocked the gun, and pulled the trigger.

_*****BANG***  
>***BANG**<strong>_


	9. Chapter 9

_*****BANG***  
>***BANG**<strong>_

"McGee!"  
>"Probie!"<p>

Together Tony and Ziva focused on the teammate that had just been on the wrong end of the gun barrel, certain he'd just been killed in cold blood at close range. With the delayed reaction of shock, it took a minute to process the fact that the drug dealer now lay dead where he'd been standing, having been taken down before he could get his shot off.

Gibbs grunted painfully, drawing his agents' attention to him instantly, as his hand holding his still smoking gun lost all its' strength and fell to the ground bonelessly at his side, his recently fired weapon hitting the pavement dangerously, but thankfully not going off.

"Boss! You okay?" Tony yelled as he scrambled over to him to see what help he needed

"Mm. Fine. Check…McGee…" Gibbs managed to get out.

"Ziva's with him. You saved his life, Boss. Again." Tony praised his boss.

"Don't …say…to …Gee… saved me, twice." The boss struggled to get out the words, his breathing now harsh and heavy as he fought to stay awake through the pain.

"I hear ya, Boss. You hurt anywhere else? Tony pushed for answers, forcing his internal questions about what the man had just said, to the back burner in light of the current crisis.

"No." Gibbs groaned as he struggled to sit back up, never one to remain laying down on the job.

"Boss, don't move, you're still bleedin' pretty good. E.M.T.'s are almost here. Let them take care of ya, all right?"

"NCIS, FREEZE!"

"HEY! It's just us fellow Agents now, Reed!" Tony shouted out to the backup team of agents that swarmed the warehouse in a sea of blue jackets with yellow letters as they secured the scene. "Where the hell is that ambulance?" Tony yelled angrily.

"Right here, Sir." A paramedic materialized at Tony's shoulder and moved to step around him, obviously ready to begin treating Gibbs but the older man growled at him:

"Take care of my agent first. I'm fine."

The paramedic nodded with understanding. "My partner's right behind me, Sir. He'll take care of you." Having said that, he hurried on over to Tim, immediately squatting down to begin treating the younger man's injuries.

"Bout damn time," Tony groused as he was approached by Agent Reed for a sit rep and was forced to step back from the medics as they worked so they could discuss what had happened.

Ziva remained by Tim's side, still holding his hand while he was checked over and his wound cleansed so they could see how seriously he'd been shot. A second pair of helpful hands and a voice of calm reassurance arrived on the scene in the form of Ducky as the older man quickly made his way directly to the one injured man who remained unattended.

"Jethro, let me take a look at you." Ducky greeted soothingly.

"Hey, Duck." Gibbs groaned.

"Hello indeed, my friend. Are you hurt anywhere else other than this shoulder?"

"Mm fine, Duck. Take care of McGee." Gibbs insisted gruffly as he attempted to rise to his feet, unable to stifle the groan of pain that erupted at the movement that jarred his now agonizingly painful shoulder. The blood still steadily coming through his barely applied compression with  
>Ziva's jacket.<p>

"Timothy is being loaded into the ambulance as we speak, Jethro. The paramedics are taking care of his head injury the best they can until they get him to the hospital, having seen fit to allow me to look you over so they could more quickly see to Timothy's injuries."

"Head? They shot…in the head?" Gibbs' tone spoke clearly of his sense of horror at that news, despite his own pain.

"Do not fear the worst just yet, Jethro. I'm certain it was just a graze and the reason he is unconscious his from hitting his head on the ground when he fell. Let's not borrow trouble, hmm?" Ducky did his level best to get Gibbs to see reason beyond his rising worry about his agent and his own physical pain. "Come, your chariot awaits."

"Need .. ride… McGee." Gibbs managed to make clear as he rode out his pain on hissed breathing and sporadic words while Ducky helped him to his feet.

"Now, Jethro, that is not possible with your injury. Do stop worrying, as it is not beneficial to either yourself or Timothy."

"Who's wi… him?"

"Honestly, Jethro! The paramedics have him just fine. Tony and Ziva are working your crime scene as they should be and you refusing to go to the hospital right now is detrimental to their morale and your health!"

"Go with him, Duck"

"I fully intend to be right behind the both of you when you arrive at Bethesda, Jethro. Do stop worrying and get into the ambulance now, please?"

As Ducky helped Gibbs lumber the remaining distance to his transportation to the hospital, the Team Leader's eyes immediately found his prone agent in the back of the first ambulance with its' doors still open, lying still and surrounded by medics.

"Need to talk … McGee." Gibbs declared firmly as he fought through the agony and made his priority clear.

"He is unconscious, Jethro and it won't do to further injure yourself by climbing in and out of one of these vehicles. Since there is no room for you in Timothy's you must conserve your strength and energy to get into the back of the one waiting for you!" the M.E. reminded him soothingly.

"Ducky!" the Boss complained as heatedly as he could.

"No, Jethro! Now I promise you that Timothy will not even know if you are with him or not until he has regained consciousness and it won't happen until much later after he's been treated for his injury!" Now you must let yourself be treated for your own injury if you are to be of any help to Timothy when he wakes up."

Gibbs frowned. "He'd better not d…."

"We're ready to transport you now, Sir. Your agent is already on his way." Grasped by his good shoulder, he was huddled off towards his ride to the hospital, and helped inside by the paramedics who were now ready to drive him to the hospital. One of them got in the back with him and began insuring the pressure on his shoulder, although painful, would stop the blood flow. The doors were closed behind him by the second paramedic as the first ambulance bearing Tim inside sped off towards Bethesda Naval Hospital.

Ducky remained glued to the spot as he attempted to rein his emotions and thoughts back in and focus on what needed to be done for this team of agents.

"Ducky? Are you alright?" Ziva asked him with concern as she approached him, startling him out of his thoughts and getting him moving toward his vehicle.

"Hmm? Oh, Ziva!" Ducky stopped and looked at her guiltily. " I do apologise, I'm afraid with all the chaos surrounding Jethro and Timothy's being injured, I've been lax in asking if you or Anthony were injured in this ghastly shootout."

"We are fine, Ducky. Thank you." She was quick to reassure him.

"We're done here. Back-up team's taking over. C'mon, we're going to Bethesda." Tony announced as he walked up to them, worry and guilt laying heavily on his mind.

"Let me inform Mr. Palmer that he will need to drive the van back to the navy yard and I shall come with you." The M.E. requested.

"Okay. We'll be in the car. Oh, Who gets to break the news to Abby?" Tony wondered out loud.

"That would be you, Tony. Especially since you will need to call Director Vance and update him on the fact that he has two agents that have been shot here today." Ziva reminded him seriously.

"Great. Just great. Sometimes, this job really sucks!" Tony admitted.

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him and grinned wickedly. "You do keep reminding us that you are the senior agent, do you not? With Gibbs out of the image for the time being the duty falls with you, so do not complain."

Tony glared at her as she walked away and shook his head. She was right, but still, there were parts of his responsibility that he hated.

******NCIS******

"TONY!" Abby hollered as soon as he reached the E.R. waiting room a mere thirty minutes later. He barely had time to prepare himself for her barreling hug as she threw herself into his arms, tears pouring down her face. "Both of them, Tony? They both got shot? How the hell did that happen?"

"Abigail, calm yourself and allow me to go and find a doctor to give us some more information. You getting this worked up will do none of us any good." Ducky quietly but firmly admonished her before he headed down the hallway to the nurses' station.

"Agent DiNozzo?" the shaky quiet voice coming from behind Abby hit Tony like a punch to the gut.

"Hey, Sarah. How are you?" was the best reply he had to offer to his downed teammate's little sister. He hadn't seen her since they absolved her of having anything to do with her ex-boyfriend's murder some years back.

"Tim?"

"Ducky's gone to get an update. We just got here." Tony admitted as calmly as he could even though his insides were shaking.

"I know. That's not what I'm asking. I wanna know what happened to my brother." Sarah stated firmly, her need for answers nearly vibrating off of her.

"How did you hear about him being here?" Tony asked since he was literally shocked that she'd gotten here so fast.

"I brought her." Leon Vance's voice joined the fray as he stepped into the room, carrying one tray of coffees while Jimmy arrived next to him carrying another.

"We brought coffee for everyone." Jimmy announced before the director could say anything else, as he held the tray out that he was holding.

While the others each took a cup and offered a quiet thanks, Tony's eyes locked with Vance's and the unspoken questions sparked to life. It was a few unsettled moments before Tony gave in and did what needed to be done. With a deep sigh of frustration, worry and guilt, he recounted what had taken place for both the director and Abby, taking great pains to not be specific about exactly where Tim had been shot. He was grateful he wouldn't have to repeat it, at least out loud. It was heart wrenching enough having lived it.

He knew he'd screwed up. Somehow he'd let that last shooter get the jump on him and now Gibbs' shoulder was most likely hurt much worse because he'd had to take that shot to save Tim's life. If Tony had located that shooter like he should have and taken him into custody or taken care of him, that wouldn't have happened. Worse, Tim wouldn't have damn near been killed not two feet from him! Guilt was beginning to curl itself insidiously around Tony's soul.

"So you're telling me that my brother was about to be shot at point blank range and you just stood there? You were just gonna let that bastard kill Tim? What the hell kind of teammate are you?" Sarah asked with pure unadulterated fury, pulling Tony from his torturous thoughts viciously. He'd forgotten she was there as he'd retold the facts; a fact that was clear now with the horror written across her face at the details he hadn't thought to leave out of his account.

Taking in Abby's sheet white pallor and the fact that she had sunk down into a chair at what she was hearing, Tony felt even worse. He couldn't find the words to ease the moment or even calm them down.

"Sarah. I know that this is difficult to hear, but you must focus on the fact that your brother is alive." Ziva encouraged as she spoke calmly to the younger woman, working hard to control her own guilt as the younger woman's words cut through her like a knife. "Tim would not want you to get upset like this, especially over something that did not end badly."

"Not end badly?" Sarah cried incredulously. "My brother's been shot! How much more 'badly' can it be?"

Tony and Ziva exchanged guilt ridden glances. No one needed to know just how close they'd come to the worst possible answer to that question as their reality. It had already been serious enough that in the interest of keeping everyone as calm as possible, they'd agreed to leave that detail of Tim's exact injury out of their phone calls. They knew Ducky hadn't had time to tell anyone, even if they hadn't discussed their decision with him.

Sarah noticed their looks and grew even angrier. "What. Aren't You. Telling. Me?" She demanded.

Tony looked beseechingly at Vance for help. Getting into this now wouldn't help anyone and it wouldn't get them the answers they needed on how their teammate and boss were doing. Somehow, Tony knew that despite being left out of that important detail, Vance would do what was best for their Probie and not let this spiral out of control. Thankfully, it wasn't but a mere half minute later that Vance proved him right.

"Ms. McGee." Vance turned to his wounded agent's sister and spoke quietly to her. "While I understand your anger at not being told the exact details of your brother's injury, Agent Da'vid is correct. Your brother is alive. That is what you need to focus on. When he is allowed visitors, you'll want to be focused on helping him get through whatever recovery is ahead of him."

Sarah swallowed hard as she fought to calm herself down. Somehow, she found herself wrapped within Ziva's arm on her shoulder and she unconsciously settled into that support, her head finding the older woman's shoulder as her tears fell, her shoulders shaking with unreleased residual tension and fear. Despite being completely and overwhelmingly furious with this agent for not protecting her brother from his would –be killer; her need for emotional grounding seemed to outweigh all else at the moment.

Ziva looked to Abby for help. The Lab Rat smiled softly and walked over to the other two women and offered herself as a shoulder for Sarah to cry on as well. In a surprising move, Sarah backed away from Abby with a flash of anger in her eyes before turning and walking away, huddling in on herself as she sat down in one of the waiting room chairs. Rendered speechless, all the group could do was let her be as she obviously wanted them to and go back to waiting for an update on both their teammate and fearless leader.

After endless pacing and countless looks at their watches, their supply of patience was reaching the bottom of the bucket. It had been at least two hours since Ducky had gone in search of answers as to how their team members were doing and it wasn't feeling like everything was going to be okay with him gone this long. In fact, the longer he was gone, the more they began to fear the worst and only Vance's presence was keeping them from acting on their restlessness and ever-increasing fear.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Ducky reappeared with what could be considered to be a look of relief on his face. As he walked up to where Sarah was sitting, he beckoned to Vance while the others simply followed in the Director's wake and walked over to where the M.E. was now sitting beside Tim's sister.

"Sarah. Timothy should recover just fine. The bullet grazed him rather seriously but, it was as I suspected, the concrete that met his head when he fell, that did the most damage in causing the swelling they are concerned about at the moment. They have been monitoring his brain and are being extremely careful by keeping him sedated right now until what swelling is there has gone down. They want to give his injury every opportunity to not become worse."

Sarah choked on a sob. "What you're saying is he could still die, right?" her tear-filled eyes begged him for a different truth.

"I am sorry, my dear. That is still a slight possibility, yes. But, please, remember I would never have offered such hope that he will recover, if I did not firmly believe that he will. There is every reason to believe he will recover. The chance of him not doing so is slim. The doctors are monitoring him very closely."

"Wait a minute!" Sarah demanded loudly as the M.E. words finally hit home. "You're telling me that my brother got shot in the HEAD?"

Ducky looked at Tony with anger. "Do you mean to tell me that you did not tell her as much?"

"No, Ducky. I didn't at first because I didn't want to freak her out. Then I just got wrapped up in the worrying and the waiting ya know." Tony apologized.

"Tony!" Abby cried angrily. "NONE of us were told that Timmy got shot in the head! Why would you keep that from us? DUCKY! Tell me Timmy's gonna be alright!"

"Oh, God! I can't lose my brother!" the young woman cried as she huddled further into herself and sobbed.

Leon decided to end this before it got ugly. "Ms. McGee. I believe Agents DiNozzo and Da'vid acted in the best interest of all they were concerned about by not giving us this detail that would have worried us all tremendously. Now, you heard Dr. Mallard. Your brother's expected to make a full recovery and that's what you need to focus on. Now let's let Dr. Mallard finish what he has to say shall we? Dr. Mallard, sit rep on Agent Gibbs?"

With a gentle hand to Sarah's shoulder, Ducky rose from his chair and did what he could to diffuse the situation further. "My dear, I promise you, your brother should be able to recover just fine, provided there is no additional swelling. Do keep in mind that it will most likely not be a short recovery period and he will need the support of all of his friends and family."

Next, the M.E. looked at the director. "Jethro's injury was a through and through, Director. The point of entry was the Clavicular Head of the Pectoralis Major muscle. Had the bullet been an inch to the left, it would have hit his lung. As it was, it nicked his left scapula on its' way out; the exit wound being just below that. "

"His prognosis, Dr. Mallard?" Leon asked with only a tendril of patience remaining from all the medical terminology.

"Jethro is extremely fortunate that with the straight path of this bullet, no organs were hit." Ducky advised. "Though, he does have serious muscle damage and a bruised scapula to contend with. I'm afraid he won't be going out in the field for quite a while, Director."

"But, he's okay, right? I mean, Gibbs is gonna be fine, right?" Abby asked as she practically danced on her heels at that good news.

"Yes, Abigail. he will be fine with some rehabilitation and plenty of time given toward healing." Ducky told her with a smile.

"I wanna see him!" she demanded.

"I'm afraid, that won't happen tonight, my dear." The M.E. informed her with all due seriousness. "He has been sedated enough to allow him to sleep on through what's left of this afternoon and on through the night. It is what's best for him."

"But, you said he was okay! Why are they keeping him overnight if he's okay?" Abby argued petulantly. "We really need to see him!"

"Abby, use your head, will you?" Tony sniped. "Just because you think he's superman doesn't mean he doesn't need time to heal."

"Enough! Go home. All of you. Ms. McGee, I'm sure Dr. Mallard can get you in to see your brother for at least a little bit. Are your parents on their way? I know we spoke of them earlier but you never said if they were coming."

"They won't be coming. Tim and Dad haven't' spoken in over seven years."

"Whoa! Seven years? Wait a minute! Why didn't Probie ever say anything?" Tony demanded as he tried to process the shocking news he'd never suspected of his teammate.

"Tony. You know Timmy's a very private person. He never even told me and I dated him." Abby objected to what Tony seemed to be implying with his question.

Well, what about your mom?" Tony asked before he could stop himself.

All previous anger and outrage seemed to have evaporated as Sarah shook her head. "Tim refuses to put her in the middle. So he doesn't call her."

"They're still his parents and the Agency is legally obligated to contact them." Vance told her.

"I can't call them about this. Please don't ask me to get in the middle of it." She begged, tears still sliding down her face from the emotional toll this was taking on her.

"I won't. In fact. If you'll give me the number, I'll take care of it. Are there any other family members I should be contacting? Vance replied seriously, partly in Director mode and partly in 'father' mode. He knew he'd want to be called if one of his kids had been hurt.

"No, there's no one else. I mean there's Grandma on Daddy's side, but… she's never in one place long enough to stay in touch. I don't even know where she is right now." Sarah pulled a piece of paper out of her purse, wrote her number on it and handed it to the Director with a small smile. "Thank you." She said softly as she turned to go with Ducky, the Scotsman's arm comfortingly around her shoulder as they walked.

Turning to the rest of the group, he reiterated his order. "Go on home. Get some sleep. Come back in the morning, AFTER you eat a decent breakfast!"

As they wordlessly trudged out of the waiting room, each seemed to have already withdrawn behind whatever wall they needed to hold themselves upright as they dealt with the current turn of events. Leon Vance let out a sigh of frustration and even worry as he took his phone out of his pocket and made the first of several necessary calls.

It was gonna be a long night.


	10. Chapter 10

Looking away from the ceiling above his bed for had to have been the millionth time since he'd first tried to go to sleep last night, Tony looked at his clock only to find that the time to get up and face the day had come already. He groaned as he wiped his hands across his face. Sleep had been strangely elusive and he felt like he hadn't had any in a week, instead of just one night. He guessed guilt would do that to you; God knows, he'd been here before. Tony had lots to feel guilty about throughout his lifetime but this, this was among the worst.

After all, it wasn't every day that you fell down on the job in a big enough way that it affected the life of others on your team; or others, period. Tony wasn't used to screwing up like this and it felt like a million pounds was sitting on his shoulders and another dose of it had taken up residence in his gut. _How the hell had that damn shooter gotten the jump on him? Why couldn't he remember how he'd screwed up?_

_"Where is that last shooter, Tony? Do you have him in custody?"_  
><em>"No, he doesn't…"<em>

The next thought going through Tony's brain answered that last question. He couldn't remember what had happened to bring things to that point because all he could recall and vividly hear replay over and over in his head; was that shooter callously trying to end Tim's life not two feet away from him, while Tony just stood there doing nothing; his hands up in the air like an idiot!

_"Put your hands where I can see them. Now!"_

Over and over again, he heard Sarah's outrage, disbelief and fear:

_"So you're telling me that my brother was about to be shot at point blank range and you just stood there? You were just gonna let that bastard kill Tim? What the hell kind of teammate are you?"_

Gasping for air, Tony squeezed his eyes tight against the too vivid replay of that moment in time that he was watching Tim get killed right in front of him.

_"He's not my problem. You damn nosy cops storm in here uninvited, kill half my friends and run the rest of them off and interfere with my business and you expect me to give a damn if a couple of you do-gooders trying to take us down winds up dead?"_

**_***BANG***_**  
><strong><em>***BANG**<em>**

Over and over again, he saw that gun being pointed at Tim's chest and over and over again, heard it go off. **BANG! BANG!**

Jumping up off the bed, Tony practically ran for the shower, desperate to wash the guilt away, turning the water hotter than what was comfortable. He was the Senior Field Agent. The former street cop with enough experience in situations like this to have known better! _He wasn't supposed to be the one to screw up so royally! He wasn't supposed to cost another teammate their life!_

Only Gibbs, as injured as he had been,' taking that shot at that exact second, saved Tony's actions from resulting in Tim's death. _How was Tony supposed to live with himself, knowing just how close he came to getting Tim killed?_

Tony stood there feeling it; letting it pelt him; the too hot heat, standing still for it, deserving every bit of it; forcing himself to withstand the burning of the extremely hot water. Suddenly a wave of guilt and self-loathing crashed through him so strong, it literally drove him to his knees as it overtook him, sobs escaping along with hot tears that stung even through the water, his soul screaming with the ferocity of what he'd done; what he'd failed to do. _Oh, God! Probie, I'm so sorry!_

****NCIS*****

Ziva ran harder than her usual stride; feeling the pain of every angry footfall that landed, just enough that it kept her going and kept her mind churning as guilt and anger at herself piled higher and higher with every step she took. It was earlier than she usually ran, but without the ability to find sleep, running was all she had.

_"Put your hands where I can see them. Now!"_

_"This man needs medical attention, right now!"_

_"That's easy enough to fix. He's not my problem. You damn nosy cops storm in here uninvited, kill half my friends and run the rest of them off and interfere with my business and you expect me to give a damn if a couple of you do-gooders trying to take us down winds up dead?"_

**_***BANG***_**  
><strong><em>***BANG**<em>**

Sarah had raged at Tony but the truth was that Ziva was solely to blame. She had been in the better position to safeguard Tim better than she'd safeguarded Gibbs by not calling the shooter's attention to him or his need for medical attention._ Why didn't she step between the shooter and her helpless teammate? Why had she remained more concerned about his injury than about his life? _

Only Gibbs' split second timing and perfect aim, despite being seriously injured, had saved Tim from Ziva's failure to protect him. _How was she supposed to live with herself knowing she almost cost her dear friend his life?_

_"So you're telling me that my brother was about to be shot at point blank range and you just stood there? You were just gonna let that bastard kill Tim? What the hell kind of teammate are you?"_

**_***BANG***_**  
><strong><em>***BANG**<em>**

Finding her vision suddenly blurred, Ziva hastily wiped at her eyes, finding them unexpectedly wet Lengthening her stride, she pushed herself harder, needing to pound the ground hard enough that it felt her guilt and her pain at what she'd done; what she'd failed to do._Oh, McGee, I am so sorry!_

****NCIS****

The sound of muted voices pulled him from the depths of a sleep so heavy, he felt like he was running a marathon just trying to open his eyes to find the source of what he was hearing. Blinking several times, his vision cleared as did the words being said across the room.

"Dr. Mallard, are you sure?"

"I assure you, once Jethro is awake and cognitive of his whereabouts, he will insist on being discharged. He is not one to sit idly by while one of his agents is seriously injured. It will be much simpler just to release him. I will make sure he takes care of himself."

"Alright then. As soon as, ah, good morning, Agent Gibbs, Dr. Mallard and I were just discussing releasing you this morning, so long as there are no complications or problems. How do you feel?" The man, obviously a doctor wearing a white lab coat, complete with the stethoscope loped around his neck said as he looked at Gibbs with scrutiny.

""How's my agent?" Gibbs growled as he glared back.

"Your agent?" The doctor asked in confusion.

"Timothy's doctor is with him now, Jethro. We will have an update as soon as he has finished examining him." Ducky inserted in hopes of calming his friend.

"Talk to me, Duck." The Team Leader ordered as he turned his attention to the M.E. while trying to get out of the bed, one hand holding tight to the back of the hospital gown as he leaned against the bed. His injured shoulder was bound by a sling, immobilizing the joint to keep him from accidentally causing any more damage as he moved around.

"Now, Jethro, at least let the good doctor have one more look at you before you begin raising a ruckus to be released, would you? You know good and well, that Timothy will still be here when he is done. So, do be patient and wait for him to release you, hmm? The rest will do you good." Ducky chided. "Lord knows, you won't allow yourself a moment's rest once you've been released unless I badger you into it.

"Agent Gibbs, if you would allow me to check you over one last time, you will be free to check on your agent yourself." The doctor advised. "And you will need to commit to allowing yourself to rest or I will keep you here for at least another night."

"By all means, Jethro. Do cooperate won't you, while we await an update on our young man, hmm?" Ducky pushed as he took in the full scowl on Gibbs' face at the doctor's threat of another night spent in the hospital.

"Fine." Gibbs grunted as he laid his head back against the wall."

"Good. In that case, I shall wait outside. That way, I will be able to insure that Timothy's doctor stops and updates us." The M.E. stated as he headed toward the door.

"I wanna know everything, Duck."

"I will find out what I can, my friend." Ducky promised as he walked out into the hallway, leaving Gibbs to the mercy of his doctor and the two nurses that were heading into Gibbs' room to help.

****NCIS****

Some thirty minutes later, as he sat beside his fallen agent's hospital bed, his own freshly injured shoulder safely wrapped in a cocoon of swathing and held protectively in a sling, Gibbs gave voice to his concern. "You sure he's okay, Duck?" he asked quietly. "He doesn't look it. Don't think I've ever seen him this pale before. Has he even woken up at all?"

"I assure you, Jethro, Timothy is doing as well as can be expected right now. We are most fortunate that his head injury did not induce any more swelling than what we are contending with now. To answer your second question, my friend, Timothy has not yet woken up nor should he. I believe his body's ability to recover is greatly being boosted by the rest he is getting. I'm sure they will ease him off the sedation as soon as the risk of further damage to his brain from additional swelling has passed."

"He saved my life out there." The Team Leader shared almost reverently.

"Yes, I've heard the reports of what happened from both Anthony and Ziva. I'm certain Timothy will be most relieved to know that you did not lose that battle today." The M.E. offered.

Gibbs sat watching his agent sleep the restful sleep of an induced sedation. He knew the poor guy needed all the rest he could get. He prayed that the young man would came back from this as fit and sound as he'd want to be; without having lost anything to this mess.

"Jethro, is something on your mind?" Ducky's inquisition was offered conversationally with overtones of concern.

"Just hopin' he'll come outta this intact, Duck." Gibbs answered truthfully as he kept the conversation as quiet as possible.

"You seem to have become quite a bit more in tune with Timothy over the past few months. That refreshing change wouldn't by any chance, have something to do with Timothy's disappearance from the squad room on the afternoon of Mike Franks' funeral when you were also absent from the squad room, would it? "

The M.E.'s question startled Gibbs, coming from almost out of the blue. He couldn't explain it and so he said nothing, choosing instead to go with what was typical for him; silence.

"Am I correct in my belief that Timothy was occupied that night with his quest to look after your well-being?" Ducky continued to dig for answers.

Gibbs remained silent as the M.E.'s words struck a chord in his heart. It felt strange hearing that Tim's stubborn insistence that he not leave Gibbs alone that night several months ago had been considered by the others to be a quest and not a secret one. Finally, he found one question he needed the answer to. "How much do you know about that night, Duck?"

"Only what I myself and the others, of course, surmised to have been Timothy's agenda that night. Coupled, of course, with the improvement in the way you two seem to work together now. There seems to be less tension and a tad bit more compassion and patience offered to him from you since then. Might that be why you told Anthony that today was in fact the second time Timothy has saved your life?"

Gibbs closed his eyes as his long time friend's questions hit too close to home about a night in his life he wasn't prepared to talk about with anyone. Right now, his focus was on Tim. He didn't want to think back to that night; not right now. But, Ducky was right and now that it had been mentioned, he couldn't help but think on what had taken place that night for a minute.

As far as Gibbs was concerned, his youngest agent had saved his life that night; on the deeper level that almost no one had ever trespassed before. The fact that Tim never acted any different towards Gibbs after that eventful night raised the young man up in Gibbs' eyes. The Team Leader remained grateful to him, which in turn, had set things in motion for the older man to become and remain more in tune with the young man as a person on his team equal to the others and no longer simply the electronic leg of the outfit. Ultimately yet silently, he'd turned the tide until the changes Ducky was referring to had come about.

It had been difficult to watch things slowly but steadily deteriorate between his two boys, but Gibbs wasn't about to make any drastic changes to the way things were handled and so he remained the silent overseer. Oddly enough, Tony seemed to drawn his own line in the sand and never step over it as far as to what lengths he would go to express his anger towards Tim or verbally take it out on the younger man. The Senior Field Agent somehow never took it too far; although there had been numerous times where his hand had visibly twitched in the direction of Tim's head, as if needing to administer a head slap to the one person on the team he seemed forever determined to view as his underling.

The first time that had happened, Gibbs had actively watched with an unmistakable warning glare at his oldest 'kid', letting Tony know he was walking a thin line. Head slaps from the Senior Field Agent hadn't been sanctioned since they'd lost Kate.

_"Thawack!"  
>"Don't do that, Tony."<em>

That was one thing that was not going to change. Tony had curtailed that itch, settling instead for a serious gripe fest, all of which, Tim quite effortlessly ignored. And even though that lack of reaction from Tim only served to amp up Tony's frustration and anger, Gibbs still refused to take the control that Tim was routinely showing, away from him by stepping in.

In the weeks that followed that night at his house, the boss had given much thought to the young man's request and the fact that it had come from deep within Tim's soul. He'd known it had taken a lot for Tim to finally voice what he'd obviously long been worried about and it only served to focus Gibbs' attention much more keenly to what Tim had admitted to him obviously because he trusted him with it.

_Boss, I… I'm worried this might be the last straw for you and you're leaving us again. Only this time you won't come back._

Gibbs had given a lot of thought to the favor Tim had asked from him, too. It had shone a light on a lot that had long been staring Gibbs in the face and he'd been overlooking. Tim had been a green probie with only about a year and a half training and experience under his belt when Gibbs had retired for those four months. The kid still couldn't stand up to Tony and Tony was still eating him up for breakfast every morning and spitting him back out to put him to work. Gibbs had thrown Tim to the wolves without a second look. Tim had never said a word about any of it. Until that next morning after Mike's funeral.

_"If leaving's what you feel you need to do, could you at least let us say goodbye this time? And maybe consider letting Abby tell us you're alright this time, instead of forcing her to keep it a secret?"_

Blinking, Gibbs brought his thoughts back to the here and now. He knew that he had Tim to thank for himself not running away after Mike's death. Somehow, that short but painfully honest conversation with his youngest agent, along with some never forgotten words of advice from two of the people he'd been closest to, had thrown away any thoughts he might have had of leaving. He hadn't been able to walk away.

Only Tim's concerned probing had brought to mind those most important recollections that had made a difference in Gibbs' choices. Tim was the reason they'd made the difference again. The Team Leader could only hope that the near tragedy here today would put an end to whatever had kept Tony so angry at Tim for so long. He needed his team to reknit their bonds that kept them the best at what they did because they worked together almost seamlessly and looked out for each other every single time they went out into the field. His gut was telling him that to get back to that point, his people would have to travel a difficult road now.

His head was fuzzy in terms of what he actually recalled from the scene at the warehouse since he'd been in so much pain and focused on worrying about Tim, but Gibbs did know that Tony and Ziva had been forced to stand by and damn near watch their fellow teammate and friend get killed not three feet from where they stood. The Team Leader even now, remained layered in relief that he'd been able to kill that bastard before he'd so cruelly taken Tim from them.

"Jethro." Ducky quietly called to him from the doorway.

Gibbs turned and noticed another Doctor standing by the M.E.'s shoulder as they backed up into the hallway when he joined them at the door, so as to not disturb Tim's sleep.

"Agent Gibbs, I'm Dr. Beaker. I've been your agent's treating physician since he arrived. I apologise for that interruption just now. I had to take that call."

"Give it to me straight, Doc." Gibbs requested firmly.

"First, I need for you to realize that the only reason I'm able to share any information on Agent McGee's status is because his sister has rather forcefully insisted that you be kept informed. Something about 'on the off-chance that he actually cares more than our father does.'?" Dr. Beaker remarked with a puzzled expression.

Gibbs scowled but remained quiet, letting the doctor know to keep going with what he had to say. He'd sort the mess with Sarah out later. Hearing how Tim was doing was damn sure more important.

"All right. Agent McGee, as I'm sure you're aware, was grazed in the head, an inch above his ear, hard enough that it rendered him unconscious. As he fell, his head hit the cement floor of the warehouse much more forcibly than any of us would have liked. In fact, that's the reason for the swelling, much more so than the graze. Now, while the swelling was our biggest concern when he presented to us; it has gone down significantly since then and I'm finally comfortable that he'll be able to begin the healing process without any problems. We've begun weaning him off the sedation."


	11. Chapter 11

Tony and Ziva arrived at the hospital almost in tandem, falling silently into step with each other out in the parking lot and continuing on as they walked the halls towards Tim's room. It was as if they each knew the other couldn't find the words to speak amidst all they were already buried under. Neither looked like they felt as though they belonged there; both resolved to be there for their teammate regardless. Finding Abby standing outside Tim's room, looking into the window, they stopped and approached her at a calmer pace. Finally, there was something they could talk about; needed to talk about.

"Abby. Why are you out here and not in McGee's room visiting with him?" Ziva questioned cautiously. "Has something happened?"

Abby turned to greet them and answer Ziva's question. "Hey, guys. No, He hasn't woken up yet. The nurses just wanted to check him over before we went in to sit with him. I can't believe he's been sleeping so long."

"Kinda get that when you're sedated, Abbs." Tony quirked.

Abby smiled softly. "Yeah, I know. But it's just so not Timmy, ya know?"

"Not sure we do. I mean, you did date for a while, so to what exactly are you referring?" The accompanying grin seemed to set Abby off.

"Tony, this isn't funny!" The Lab Rat hissed as she smacked him in the arm.

"Hey!" Tony complained rubbing his arm. "You think I don't know that this isn't funny? Think again, Abby!"

"Stop this!" Ziva hissed angrily before walking away to stand with her back up against the wall across from them so she could still see the comings and goings from Tim's room.

Tony's instant of levity in the face of the awful truth in front of him had disappeared, having been replaced by the weight and emotion that came with the pile of guilt that he'd accepted and refused to completely let go of. Then it hit him. _Where was Gibbs? Where was Ducky?_

"Ducky's getting Gibbs to eat something for breakfast down in the cafeteria. They've already been in to see Tim. I ran into them as they were coming out of his room with Timmy's Doctor." Abby told them as if she'd been reading his mind.

While anger still showed in her eyes, her tone was quieting down and the sadness was also coming back in her watery eyes and the shakiness in her voice. "Ducky got Gibbs' doctor to release him, since Gibbs would have been putting up a fight if they'd made him stay anyway. Sarah's been here, too. She couldn't stay because she doesn't have any leave from her job. I promised her we wouldn't leave him alone. She's counting on us to keep that promise."

Before any more could be said the door to their teammate's room opened and the nurses came out. "All right. You may sit with him. We've begun weaning him off the sedation, but you are not to disturb him. I don't care how badly you want him to wake up and talk to you. Do you understand?" The more assertive of the two ordered with the sternest of looks. "I would hate to have to ban you from visiting your friend."

"We won't wake him. " Tony solemnly owed as he headed into Tim's room and stopped, frozen in his tracks with a sudden wave of sorrow and guilt so strong, he was surprised he was still standing. A strong arm around his waist held him up and provided the grounding touch that he desperately needed.

"Come, Tony. We must put our own feelings away and work through this to be there for him." Ziva said quietly as if she completely and totally understood exactly what was going through his mind. How was that possible? The only way anyone could be that keyed into what was going on with him would be if…_Crap! Ziva was feeling just as responsible and guilty as he was!_

Over on the other side of the bed, Abby was already sitting down in the chair beside Tim's bed and had already taken one of his hands in hers, absently rubbing her thumb across his smooth skin, relishing the warmth of it that reaffirmed for her that he was alive. "Oh, Timmy. You have to wake up soon. You can't sleep though being heralded as a life saver. I'm so proud of you. You saved Gibbs' life. I know you were just doing your job, but look at what just doing your job has done to you. Please wake up soon." She pleaded softly.

"Abbs." Tony growled in her ear. "Don't you dare wake him up."

She nodded at his warning and stopped talking. Watching Tony retreat to the other side of the bed and come to a standstill at Ziva's shoulder, Abby was shocked to notice they were wearing matching expressions of guilt and remorse. _What was going on here? Just what the hell had happened out there that they hadn't spoken of yet?_

****NCIS** **

"Director Vance." The Agency Head answered his phone, glancing at his watch with a frown. Who the hell was calling him at 0700? God, please tell me this isn't someone calling me to tell me McGee didn't make it!

_"Director Vance. Commander McGee. I got your message. I apologise for not being available to talk to you last night. So, tell me how he died, Director, if you would."_

"I beg your pardon?" Vance asked in shock.

_"Weren't you calling me to notify me that Tim was killed in the line of duty?"_

"No. Sir, Commander McGee, that wasn't why I was calling you." Leon Vance could barely surpress his shock while he quickly answered the man on the other end of the phone line.

_"I can't imagine why else you would be calling me, Director."_

"The reason I called you, Commander, is because your son has been injured while on the job. Currently, he's in the hospital, Bethesda Naval Hospital."

_"Director Vance. While I appreciate your concern and the fact that you are following procedure in notifying the parents of a wounded agent of such injury; I feel it necessary to negate you from that requirement. The only time we will need to receive a call from NCIS in regard to Tim, will be in the event of his death. Anything else is inconsequential, as in truth, I do not have a son."_

"I'm sorry, Commander. It may be none of my business, but I'm afraid that I'm going to need some clarification of that statement before I can accept that as your instruction on this matter."

_"Simply put, Director Vance. My son has done nothing but present himself to be a failure at every single thing I have ever asked of him. Seven years ago, when he adamantly refused to even attempt to do what I asked, I washed my hands of him. That has not changed. Until he can do what I've asked of him or until he has been killed in the line of duty, I do not wish to be contacted about anything with regard to him. I've already lost my wife as a result of his willful disregard of his responsibility to make his parents proud, Director Vance. All I have left is my daughter and I do not want anything her brother does or doesn't do to taint her life or my relationship with her."_

"All right, Commander. I will make note of your wishes. Thank you for your time." Vance hung up and wiped his hand across his face. What the hell kind of a father thinks like that about his own son? Anger flashed through him at the conversation he had just had. Tim was a damn fine agent and an asset to the agency. If only his father knew and understood that.

Suddenly, he recalled the short conversation with Sarah McGee on the subject of her parents.

_"They won't be coming. Tim and Dad haven't spoken in over seven years."_

Well, what about your mom?"

"Tim refuses to put her in the middle. So he doesn't call her."

"They are still his parents and the Agency is legally obligated to contact them.".

"I can't call them about this. Please don't ask me to get in the middle of it."

Leon Vance huffed out a breath of disbelief and surprise. What had the man meant when he'd said he'd lost his wife because of Tim? Sarah never said anything about her mother dying. Looking at the photos of his own family and at the drawings done for him by his kids, Leon frowned. It wasn't right to think of your child the way this man obviously thought of Tim. He couldn't imagine doing that to his kids. Lord, what it must have been like trying to make your own way into the world with that kind of a man standing in your way.

Picking up the phone, he made the necessary call to relay what information he could. The conversation was unpleasant, short and full of emotionally charged anger on both sides. Since neither side would be able to do anything about what they'd learned, they agreed to table it for now. Ending the call, Vance felt a stab of sorrow for Gibbs, knowing that hearing what he'd just heard about his agent's father, had to have stirred up painful memories of his own daughter.  
>He wished he hadn't had to make that call, but as Team Leader, the man needed to know what to expect.<p>

Vance looked once more at his family's portraits and this time, he felt immense relief and joy that he had the love of his wonderful wife and both his completely awesome kids. You just couldn't ask for better than that. Smiling once more, he took his phone back out and made one more call, this time, smiling while he did.

****NCIS****

Gibbs put his phone away but couldn't let go of the scowl on his face as he turned his attention back to the breakfast he'd just lost his appetite for. Pushing his sandwich away, he took a long drink of his coffee even as his thought swirled angrily in his head. What the hell was wrong with parents these days? Hell, parents of this younger generation for that matter? How many times were they gonna stumble across another set of parents that didn't give a rats' ass about their kids? To think, all these years Tim never said a word about being estranged from his father and none of them had ever had a clue! How had he managed to live with it without it showing?

"Jethro, what did the Director have to say?" Ducky asked cautiously. "Whatever it was certainly wasn't good judging from both your side of the conversation as well as the look on your face even now."

A long minute of silence greeted the M.E.'s question and Ducky knew not to push. After a few more minutes of silence, Gibbs finally answered with quiet steeled anger.

"I don't want anyone asking McGee why his parents aren't here to check on him, Duck. Matter of fact, I don't want anyone bringing them up to him at all."

"Oh, dear. I take it that Sarah McGee was being most truthful about her father, then?"

"Why? What did she say?" the Team Leader asked with traces of anger still present. _If that young lady had put her brother down again, like she had when he'd damn near sacrificed his career for her…. It didn't matter if she was defending her parents this time…_

"She merely told us that her parents would not be coming to visit Timothy. She went on to say that Timothy and his father have been estranged for the past seven years. She also told us that Timothy refuses to place his mother in the middle and so he has not kept in touch with her either."

"Damn. It's a wonder McGee's as well-rounded and as much of a people pleaser as he is, considering the atmosphere he grew up in."

"Perhaps, Timothy has become who he is, in spite of his upbringing and not because of it. Either that or it's some deep rooted insecurity that means he does not want to disappoint any one else in his life. I much prefer thinking it's the first option." Ducky suggested.

"Possible. I met his sister, never met the rest of them, but he never talks about them either."

"No, He does not. A fact that I've always wondered about, even when I considered how much of a private person Timothy is. You two really are a lot alike, with that being one example. However, I have noticed over the years that the only mention of family around the holidays has been of him spending them with his sister."

"Yeah." The Team Leader admitted on a pained sigh of understanding what he'd missed.

"Shall we go check on our team, I'm certain they've either woken poor Timothy up by now or have come seriously close to doing so."

"If they have, they'll be answering to me." Gibbs growled as they got up from their table and started walking toward the trash bins to dispose of their uneaten breakfasts.

"Gibbs!" Abby's distressed voice reached them about the time they'd almost cleared the doorway to the cafeteria.

"Abby, what is it?" the boss asked with undisguised worry as he automatically held his arms out for her to come to, just like he'd always done when she was upset.

"What the hell happened out there at that warehouse?" She demanded angrily. "Tony and Ziva are both standing around looking like they shot Tim themselves for cyrin' out loud! Did they? Did one of them shoot him and no one wants to tell me?"

"Abigail, you must calm yourself. Immediately! This is a hospital!" Ducky admonished her even as Gibbs embraced her and began trying to calm her down.

"No, Abbs. None of us shot him." Gibbs told her as he held onto her for a comforting minute.

"What aren't you telling me?" She wimpered. "Why do they look so guilty?"

"Where are they?" Gibbs asked so he could turn the conversation and find out what he needed to know at the same time.

"In Timmy's room, staring at the floor like they can't even bring themselves to look at him. It's like looking into a mirror between them." Abby said tearfully as she pulled back and wiped at her face, trying to put herself back together.

"Come, Abigail, we were just on our way to come check on Timothy ourselves. Has he awoken yet?" Ducky asked as he wrapped his arms around her and walked with her.

"No. I hate seeing him lying so still, Ducky. It's like he…"

"Do not finish that sentence, Abby." Gibbs growled. "I'm gonna go see what's going on, Duck." The Team Leader increased his stride and was soon gone from their sights.

*****NCIS*****

_Weighted down. Heavy, so heavy. He had to be, everything was pitch black and he felt like he couldn't move a muscle, Still he felt drawn to the sliver of light just beyond the darkness. Like a moth to a flame, he sought it, pushing through the heaviness with all his might. God, he was tired! Maybe he'd just stop and rest for a while. No, wait. He wanted to find that light. Needed to get there. Keep going! Don't lay down on the job now! Get off your lazy butt and get there! Man, this is taking forever. What if it's a mirage? But,it's not hot enough to be the dessert. It's closer now. Really close, How'd I get here so fast? C'mon, just a little farther. Wow, there it is! The light!_

His eyes fluttered opened but he couldn't summon the strength to move any other part of his body. It all weighed a ton and he was just too tired. Looking around as his vision cleared, he could not only sense that something was wrong, he could see it in the expressions of the faces he knew so well. _Tony! Ziva! Wait why were only two of them here? Think, Tim, think! Oh God, the shooting! Gibbs crying out as he was shot! Oh, God no! Look at the looks on their faces! They can't even look at me and I can see it! Ducky and Abby aren't here. Oh, God, it's my fault! Otherwise Abby would be here and they wouldn't look like that. He'd failed to save Gibbs! Gibbs was dead! Oh, God No!_

Closing his eyes against the onslaught of grief that rose up immediately, Tim let the blackness of sleep take him away even as silent tears slipped down his face, the words finally spoken into the silent room, the last thing he heard.

"Gibbs would have …."


	12. Chapter 12

_"Gibbs would have …."_

"Would have what, Tony?" Ziva pushed although she was still shaken from Abby's sudden and quiet departure from the room several moments ago.

"I don't know. Don't remember what I was gonna say." Tony admitted.

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked as he stepped into the room. He glanced over at his wounded agent and frowned. Stepping over to bed, he took a minute to scrutinize the young man lying there. _Where those tears on Tim's face? What the hell had happened while he and Ducky had been trying to force themselves to eat a decent meal?_

"He's still out of it, Boss." Tony offered quietly.

Looking back at his two agents just standing there like guilty statues, he nearly growled at them, his anger rising so quickly. "Wait for me out in the hall."

Watching Tim sleep as Tony and Ziva did as he'd ordered, Gibbs listened for the sound of the closing door; all he needed to hear, Leaning down to be close to the young man's ear, Gibbs whispered. "I'm proud of you, You did good. Now you gotta hang in there. You don't have permission to let go. Not for this, Son. You were there to help me hang on. Now I'm gonna be here for you, McGee.

Tony and Ziva watched through the window to Tim's room, in silent fascination as Gibbs appeared to be whispering something to their teammate.

Straightening up, Gibbs turned and walked out to the hall "You two, with me." He ordered with the quiet steel that promised he was pissed about something.

As they followed him away from Tim's room, Ducky returned, his arm supportively around Abby's shoulder. "Come, my dear. Timothy may not wake until this afternoon, but he will need to have someone here for him whenever the time arrives that he does rejoin us. Why don't we both wait together?" he gently suggested.

"I'm sorry, Ducky. I don't mean to be such a baby about this. "Abby worried; her eyes puffy and red from crying and naked of the normally present mascara. The morning hadn't been conducive to wearing it and it was long lost courtesy of the tears that she had cried in the past few hours.

"Abigail. Do not talk such nonsense. It is perfectly understandable not to be comfortable around those you feel are keeping something important from you regarding someone you care about. In time, when the shock has worn off and things begin to become more clear for all involved, perhaps then, all that needs to be said will come out.

"But they both look so guilty. Why would they be guilty if Tim…"

"Sssh, my dear Now is not the time to worry about such things. Besides, I'm sure Jethro will get to the bottom of it. Come, sit over here and rest. It may be quite a while before our friend awakens."

*****NCIS*****

Silently leading the way down the hall and into an unused hospital room, Gibbs shut the door behind them and turned to his agents. "Somebody better tell me what the hell just happened in there."

"Boss, I'm not sure what you…."

"Gibbs, I do not know what…"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say one of you shot McGee yourself." Gibbs bit out angrily and glared at them both.

"What?"

"Gibbs!

"Why would you say that Boss?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows and pointed to his team members. "You sure as hell look guilty enough. Even Abby thinks you did."

"What?"

"Why would she thi…" They were both cut off by Gibbs raising his hand and stopping them from going any further with their train of thought.

"Dunno. Why would the two of you stand around in McGee's room wearing your guilt like a damn prized shirt? Sounds like it was an easy assumption to make. Just like DiNozzo here telling me that McGee was still out of it, when he obviously woke up at some point and neither of you even noticed." Gibbs was practically growling now, he was so pissed. "There a reason you couldn't keep your eyes on your injured teammate enough to realize he'd woken up and might need to hear that he wasn't alone or a see friendly face to let him know what was going on?"

"Wait, how can you tell that Pr… Ow!" Tony rubbed the back of his head now that he'd just been given a sharp smack.

"You tell me, DiNozzo! what would have given you the clue?" The Team Leader bit out.

"Oh, Damn." Tony let out in complete anger and frustration at his own behavior. _No wonder Gibbs was pissed. He has every right to be._"

Gibbs, I am so…"

"Don't. I don't wanna that out of either of you. I'm only gonna say this once. Whatever this is; you'd better deal with it and fast because neither or you are allowed to step foot in McGee's room again until you do. Are we clear?"

Tony and Ziva looked at each other and then down at the floor at their own feet before Ziva sat down while Tony glanced at Gibbs but began pacing restlessly.

"Yes, Boss."

"Yes, Gibbs."

Both agents looked abashed and ashamed of their actions though neither one could quite let go of the guilt that they felt. Gibbs eyed them warily.

"Something I need to know? I may have been a little out of it back at the scene but from where I'm standin'…"

Tony looked at him guiltily. He needed someone to tell him he was right; that he'd screwed up; but more than that, he needed the boss to let him go. He'd screwed up and that was all there was to it. Huffing out a deep breath of nerve and frustration, Tony geared up to let it all out

"Boss, maybe you'd better sit down."

******NCIS******

"Ducky, your phone is buzzing." Abby pointed to his hip where the phone holder was vibrating; the noise barely discernable.

"Well, so it is. It's a wonder you can hear that my dear, with all that bone jarring noise you listen to on a regular basis." Ducky smiled as he got up from his chair. "I'll just be a moment."  
>"I'm fine. I know we've been in here for at least an hour, just watching him sleep, but I want to be here when Timmy finally wakes up." She replied firmly.<p>

"As do I, my dear. Let me go take care of this and I will be right back." Ducky left the room and checked his phone to find what he'd gotten was a voicemail from Gibbs who'd only been gone a mere thirty minutes.

_"Duck. Need you for a minute. Room 305.."_

Having phrased it the way he did, Ducky knew that whatever Jethro needed was not an emergency, but it was evidently important enough to pull him away from Timothy's bedside, leaving Abby there to await Timothy's waking by herself. Since the Team Leader was aware of this, whatever this was had to be almost urgent and so Ducky stuck his head back inside the door to Tim's room and told Abby he'd be back after he checked on the others.

Smiling to herself at the beloved M.E.'s unfailing dedication to the team, Abby turned back around to watch her Timmy sleep. She was grateful for this time alone with him, even if she couldn't help but remain frightened of seeing him this inanimate. The years had been kind to her in terms of this man in front of her. He'd always been there for her, through thick and thin and despite everything that she had done, Tim had never once turned his back on her, no matter how badly she'd acted or hurt him. _Wow, where did that thought come from?_Blinking away the unexpected tears, Abby heaved out a sigh of sadness.

Who was she kidding; she'd been downright bitchy and horrible to Tim at least a half-dozen times over the years and had always gotten a free pass at the end of the day every time and not just from Tim. Now that she thought about it, often times she'd gotten what amounted to two free passes for her behavior and so had never even thought to change it. She couldn't even understand why her mind had made this trip down memory lane at her own expense. But, now that she was on this road, she couldn't seem to turn back or even change direction.

Suddenly, she found herself needing to use both her hands to hold her weary head up, she gently laid Tim's hand back down on the bed and moved to the chair near the bed, facing him, since Tim wouldn't be a wake for quite a while yet, Abby rested her head on her hands where they locked together on her drawn up knees, her thoughts coming back once more, to all that she'd done that she shouldn't have and all that she'd not done that she should have. Soon she was lost in a sea of memories, many of them not pleasant.

******NCIS******

"I can't change what happened or the decisions you made back there in that warehouse. But, if you can't put it away, then I don't want you anywhere near McGee." Gibbs spoke for the first time since Tony and Ziva had spilled their guts to him, knowing he was right and it had to come out.

"That sounds a bit harsh, Jethro." Ducky advised as he stepped into the room and into the middle of their discussion.

"Can't have them wearing their guilt on their sleeve around McGee, Duck. He picks up on stuff like that. He doesn't need any of this and knowing Tim, he'll find some way of turning it around and making it his fault before he even has time to think it through himself."

"No, he certainly does not need that. However, perhaps we should talk this through. What is it exactly that seems to be the problem?

"How's McGee?" Gibbs interrupted.

"Still sleeping restfully. Abby's with him."

Gibbs nodded his understanding. Stepping into Tony's personal space, he spoke quietly to him, keeping his tone full of steel, the warning unmistakable. "And whatever the hell you've been pissed at McGee for these past two months, better be settled and gone by the time you leave this room, too. DiNozzo."

Tony's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Boss, how'd. y…"

Gibbs stepped back and glared warningly at him until Tony capitulated and nodded in understanding of the order. Turning to glance at the long silent Ziva, Gibbs raised his eyebrow at her in silent question of where her head was at now and she too nodded at him in agreement of the order she'd been given.

"Okay, Duck. They're all yours. Don't let 'em leave this room with any of it, will ya?" Gibbs asked almost conversationally as he glanced at his long time friend and exchanged small smiles of expected positive results before he headed toward the door. Stopping in his tracks, he whispered to Ducky.

"Might be a good time to tell them not to mention McGee's folks."

"Ah, yes. Good idea, Jethro." Ducky murmered as he patted his friend on the arm as the younger of the two stepped back and continued on to the door, closing it behind him with a decisive snap.

*******NCIS*******

_Again with the light! At least this time, it's a lot closer and I don't feel so tired. There it is, I made it! _

He opened his eyes once more, this time, taking the time to blink several times before he attempted to look around as far as he could without moving his head. While he felt less exhausted than before, he was still more tired than he could ever remember being before winding up here. _Here. Where was here again? Why was he here? Abby! Why is she looking so broken and sad? Oh, God, that's right! Gibbs! Wait, hadn't Gibbs spoken to him earlier? What was he'd said? _

_"Everything's okay, son. I'm proud of you. You did good. Now you gotta hang in there. You were there to help me hang on. Now I'm gonna be here for you, McGee. You don't have permission to let go. Not for this, Son."_

Closing his eyes against the light in the room and the pain rising back up in his heart, his breathing hitched on a strangled sob as tears once again slipped down his face._ How could he hang on when Gibbs was gone because Tim had failed at his job? The man was reaching out from the other side to help him hold on? He didn't deserve it; it was his fault the man was dead! _

Weakly, he grasped the blanket that covered him, fisting it in anquish as the wave of both physical pain from his injuries and heart felt pain of losing Gibbs; of not being able to save him, of his mentor's death being his fault nearly smothered him whole. Thankfully, it was only a moment before the darkness beckoned and with a sigh of pained relief, he succumbed to sleep once more.

Abby didn't know what had brought her out of her reviere, but as she looked over at her still sleeping Timmy, her heart broke at the sight of tears on his face. Moving closer to the bed, she leaned over and gently wiped them away, cooing to him softly. "It's okay, Timmy. I know you're hurting right now. Let's get the nurse to give you more meds okay? I'll be right back, I promise." Quickly she got up and went to the nurse's station and relayed Tim's need for more pain medication.

"Abby." Gibbs called to her as he saw her at the nurse's station outside Tim's room.

"Hey, Gibbs. Is everything okay? I mean you've been gone for like two hours."

"Only been 90 minutes, Abbs. Needed to stretch my legs and get coffee. How about McGee? Why are you out here and not in his room making sure he doesn't wake up alone?"

"I'm sorry, Gibbs. I blew it." She admitted with a crestfallen expression strewn across her face and tears in her eyes.

"Spit it out, Abby."

"I got to thinking about my relationship with Timmy through the years and I guess I got lost in my thoughts. I never saw him wake up. I'm sorry. But when I finally cleared my head, I noticed…." She trailed off, too upset at herself to go on.

"Don't make me ask you again." Gibbs growled at her.

"I noticed he'd been crying, like he was in pain. But, he was already asleep again. So I just came out here to ask the nurses to give him more medication."

"I'm sorry. Agent McGee's next dose of pain medication isn't due for another fifteen minutes." The closest nurse to them broke in.

"He's still asleep?" Gibbs asked Abby.

"He was when I came out here a few minutes ago." Abby answered quietly.

"He should be okay until his next dose then." The nurse offered sympathetically. "Just don't wake him and I'll be in there when it's time."

"Okay." Abby replied sadly, hating the fact that Tim was having to feel any pain at all. None of this should have happened. She hated every bit of it.

"C'mon, Abbs, let's go keep McGee company. He's woken up twice without anyone noticing and  
>I'll be damned if it's gonna happen again." Gibbs stated firmly as he put his around her shoulder and propelled her back toward Tim's room.<p>

"What? Twice? Gibbs? That can't be right! When was the first time?" Abby asked sadly.

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that it doesn't happen again."

"Don't worry. It won't." Abby declared firmly as she walked back to Tim's room as quickly as

Gibbs was walking; both of them quick to look him over as they took their seats on either side of his bed, neither of them taking their eyes off of him.

*****NCIS*****

Ducky returned to Tim's room alone some thirty minutes later. Gibbs' eyebrows went up and his face soon became a picture of anger as he stood from his chair and approached his M.E. "Duck? Does this mean what I think it means?"

"They've gone to get something to eat, Jethro. They need to talk and finding the time to do so while they make sure to feed their bodies will solve both problems. Don't fret. They will work this out for themselves and they will not bring it in here. Of that, I am certain."

"Thanks, Duck."

"You're quite welcome my friend." Now, when is the last time you have stepped foot outside this hospital?"

"Not goin' anywhere."

Together, they took up chairs on either side of the sleeping young man while Abby took a break, trusting the two mentors in her life to be there for her injured friend. Silently, they took to watching him sleep. It wasn't long before Gibbs was dozing, his shortened amount of sleep finally catching up to him.

"Excuse me, Agent Gibbs?" The friendly nurse from earlier touched him on the shoulder as she quietly spoke to him,

"Yeah?" Gibbs muttered as he wiped his hand across his face to clear away the sleep.

"There's a Sarah McGee on the phone for you at the nurse's station. Agent McGee's sister, I believe?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Gibbs offered as he stood from the chair and flexed his back and rolled his neck before following the nurse back to the phone. How the hell had he managed to just sleep for, what time is it? two hours?

"Yeah. Gibbs."

_"Agent Gibbs. I hate to bother you, but do you think…is there any way… " _

"Sarah. Whatever you need to ask, just ask it."

_"Do you have someone who can come pick me up so I can come visit my brother? My car won't start and I'm a bit stranded I mean, Tim usually… and I…"_

"Where are you? I'll have someone come get you."

_" Highway 50, just past exit 31 in Silver Spring."_

"Okay. Someone'll be there to pick you up shortly."

_"Thank you, Agent Gibbs."_

"It's not a problem, Sarah. Just hang tight." Gibbs ended the call and returned to his agent's room, coming to stand next to Ducky as they watched Abby from Gibbs' vacated chair, cradle Tim's hand in her own and smooth her thumb across the surface of his hand repeatedly, almost as if she was calming herself by the motion.

"Duck, I'll be back in thirty. Keep an eye on things." Gibbs quietly told the older man.

"Certainly, Jethro." Ducky offered. "How will you drive with that injured shoulder?"

"Not the one I use to drive with, Duck. I'll be fine." Gibbs headed out, hoping everything would be better by the time he got back.

*****NCIS*****

Tony and Ziva, contrary to Ducky's belief, hadn't talked about anything during their brunch. They did, however, manage to agree that sitting by Tim's bedside while he slept would not help either of them or McGee. With a short text message sent to Ducky, Tony let it be known that he and Ziva were going back to work, needing to be doing something, even if it was the drudgery of paperwork or worse, working on cold cases. They would visit with Tim once he'd woken up.

Besides, Tim didn't need an entire room full of people sitting around just watching him sleep. What kind of scare would that give him, waking up to a crowd staring at him while he woke up? Ugh! Tony shuddered as that last thought ran through his mind. No, he definitely wasn't going to feed into that and make things worse for Probie as he came back to them once again.

*****NCIS*****

Even the drive back to the Navy Yard was completed in silence. Neither seemed able to rise above the guilt that had settled in their hearts. By this time, it seemed to be so thick in the air around them that they felt as though they were cloaked in it. Truth be told, it was so bad that the atmosphere around them changed even as they reached the squad room and everyone around them could feel the tension rolling off of them. Finally, Tony couldn't stand it any longer. He had to say something.

"Ziva. You know McGee would hate this, right? He'd hate that we're lettin' this work us over like this."

"I agree, Tony. However, that does not change the facts as they are. It does not take it away" Ziva replied softly.

"No argument there. Still think we need to listen to Gibbs and Ducky though."

"Why is it you are just saying this now? Gibbs said what he had to say on this well over two hours ago and Ducky not long after that." The softness was replaced by an impatience that made Tony flinch slightly.

"Yeah. I know." Tony breathed out. "Maybe I just needed to wear it for a while before it finally sunk in how much Probie would hate this."

"Be that as it may, Tony. It does not mean that the responsibility I bear in this is not there any longer."

"I know. Me either. But, let's just put it down for now, alright? At least let's get some work done so Probie's not stuck doing a boatload of paperwork or cold cases when he gets back."

"Agreed."

"Hey, guys! How's Tim?" Palmer asked as he walked through the squad room on his way from one elevator to the next.

"Palmer. What brings our resident gremlin out of his dungeon?" Tony joked half-heartedly in an effort to seriously do as he'd just told Ziva they needed to.

"Funny. Yeah, I was actually just looking for an update on Tim. I didn't want to disturb anyone at the hospital. I mean it's not like they can keep their cell phones on anyway, but I sti…"

"Palmer! We get it. McSleepy hasn't woken up yet. They just pulled him off the stuff keepin' him under a little while ago." Tony blew his steam at Jimmy's propensity for running on when he was nervous.

"Oh. Well, that's great." Jimmy's grin and relief was palpable and he stood there silently silently sending up a prayer of thanks for the good news.

"What is great, Jimmy?" Ziva asked calmly.

"The doctors taking Tim off the meds that are keeping him sedated. That's real progress. He should be waking up sometime today, if not first thing tomorrow morning."

"I agree. That is very good."

"Guess we can't ask for better news than that just yet. So, whattaya say we get crackin' on this work so we can cut loose when he's awake?" Tony looked at Ziva.

Ziva nodded at him and got back to her work while Jimmy bid them goodbye and headed out.

Tony looked around the squad room and sighed._ Damn, he couldn't wait until the team was back together again_


	13. Chapter 13

Ordinarily, the absolute silence that had filled the empty air in the twenty minute car ride back to the hospital would have been exactly the way Gibbs liked it, especially since his shoulder was giving him hell and it was a lot harder to drive with only one good one, than he'd let on to Ducky earlier. Seeing Sarah McGee this quiet, pale and obviously shaken, however, twisted the Team Leader's heart.

Something inside him wanted to reach out and comfort her; let her know everything would be alright. The last time he'd seen her before this nightmare… the first time they'd met, she'd been a strong yet shaken young lady who'd held her own against a protective, seriously stressed out and irritated older brother, even if she had put him down shortly after he'd put his career on the line for her.

As Gibbs parked the car in the hospital parking lot now, Sarah cleared her throat and fidgeted restlessly in her seat. It was obvious that something was on her mind and Gibbs knew not to push, but to wait it out and let her get it out in her own time. After several minutes of Sarah's silent fidgeting, he lost the chance to get her to open up to him when she got out of the car and stood in place, shifting nervously as she waited for him to walk with her into the hospital. Taking the bull by the horns, he deliberately came to a stop beside her.

"Just say it, Sarah."

"Say what?" She asked nervously.

"Whatever's got you so nervous you can't sit still. Might help if you just spit it out."

Sarah slumped back against the car, worry and genuine anquish fitting her like a second skin. "I don't want to have to hate my father, Agent Gibbs." She paused in an effort to regain control of her emotions. "Every day is already a struggle with that because of how he treats Tim. It's torn my family apart.'" Her voice shook.

Suddenly, it was as if he was seeing his Kelly before him, bereft and distressed. All he wanted to do was offer whatever comfort came to mind; anything to ease her pain. "Why would you have to do that?" His gentle prodding did what he needed it to as she opened up to him.

"If my brother di… if Tim doesn't ma… if this … between them is still broken…if Mom never gets to see Tim again…to let him know…he doesn't even know she's still on his side. I'll never be able to forgive my father." Tears slid down her face at the depth of what she knew he brother had sacrificed to live his own life.

Gibbs felt like he'd just stepped into a mine shaft. He was definitely over his head with this conversation. While he hurt for what his agent apparently had learned to deal with from his parents and their skewered view on their son's life, he had no helpful advice to offer. He wasn't good at these things, even if Sarah did remind him sharply of Kelly. There was a reason he'd been labled the functional mute. Oh, he knew that no one realized he'd heard about that title designation; gifted to him by none other than his Senior Field Agent.

But, since the shoe had fit and it hadn't been thrown into the fodder mill for gossip and mockery, he'd let it be. It was moments like these that brought back to his own mind, moments he had to actually agree with it. Still, he needed to reassure her that her brother was not dying like she feared. Schooling his features and trying to keep his voice calm, he finally spoke to her fears.

"He's not gonna die, Sarah."

Sarah looked at her brother's boss and took in the intense gaze he had locked on her, recalled coming up against this with him before, over Jeff's murder. Back then, it had helped save her hide from the murder rap she'd been set up to take a fall for. It had taken her to task for putting her brother down, too. Now, it seemed like the life preserver she needed to get through this moment when everything was crashing down on her. She couldn't miss the conviction in his words, his eyes flashed it like neon signs. This man really did believe that her brother would be okay. Letting out a deep sigh of frustration and sorrow, she nodded with a small grateful smile.

"Okay. You know if anyone else told me that, I wouldn't fully believe them right?"

Gibbs sighed and looked Sarah directly on. "I'll be damned if I know where you kids get putting me on a pedestal from, but you all do it. I know he's not gonna go anywhere Sarah, because your brother is too damn stubborn to stop fighting and stronger than anyone gives him credit for. All I can do is try and keep him here."

"Yeah, but they listen to you, Agent Gibbs. If you told Tim that, then he'll find a way to fight."

Gibbs shook his head and smiled. "Then I guess he'll be alright then."

"I just said that." Sarah said with a chuckle and leaned in to kiss Gibbs on the cheek. "Thanks for picking me up."

Gibbs nodded. "Ready?" he asked as if the conversation had already been dropped.

"Yeah." Was all she could offer in return as she fell into step with him as they trekked toward the hospital entrance?

She was shocked when he wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders a mere half minute later and she let herself lean into the physical support that he was offering her. Despite the short conversation lightening her mood slightly, she still needed that little bit of someone to lean on in the absence of the parents that should be doing it.

"Trust me, Sarah. Your brother's a fighter. He'll be fine. This isn't my gut talking here either, it's the doc's words." Gibbs reinforced quietly as if he knew she needed to hear it one more time.

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs." She offered in return, not knowing what else to say.

The rest of the walk was a quiet one, both of them lost in their own thoughts whilst drawing the strength and comfort from each other. Even Gibbs needed that and he found himself feeling protective over the McGee kids and wanted them to know exactly what it was like having a father figure that actually cared.

******NCIS******

Two hours later found Sarah still sitting by her brother's bed, holding his warm yet unresponsive hand in her own while Ducky stepped out to give her some time alone with Tim. He was grateful for the break and decided to stretch his legs and indulge his need for a nice cup of tea. Abby and Gibbs had taken this time to go home and rest, with Tony and Ziva on tap to be Tim's nightwatch in another two hours. Ducky was waiting to take Sarah home after visiting hours were over but didn't want Sarah to feel rushed. Thankfully, patience was the one thing that  
>Ducky had and he vowed to wait for as long as it took.<p>

He glanced through the window to the young man's hospital room towards the brother and sister and he felt his heart break at the look on Sarah's face. She looked lost and alone which was something he hoped to never see worn on anyone he knew ever again. He knew Timothy would hate to see that look in her eyes, as well.

Watching her strong, supportive older brother lie there in the hospital bed looking not only fragile and broken, brought tears to Sarah's eyes. She angrily fought them back, wiping at them furiously in case Tim woke up because she didn't want him to see her crying. She needed to be the strong one now and look after him. Besides, Tim always felt horrible when she cried; like it was somehow his fault and no matter what, he went out of his way to make her feel better and more at ease.

Suddenly, her hand was squeezed and her heart jumped for joy as her eyes latched onto her brother's, grateful to finally see him awake. "Hey. Welcome back." She greeted him softly.

"Hey." He croaked.

Sarah winced at the painful sounding scratchiness she heard and used her free hand to reach for the cup of ice chips. Once she had it settled on the bed, she took one out and gently slipped it between Tim's full lips for him. It was the least she could do right now, but doing that small thing made her feel better. Watching him relish the soothing cool wetness, she couldn't help but think back to the times he'd done the same for her when she'd gotten sick at home as a small child. There was a time when everything was okay and the McGee's were a strong family but still, Tim looked after her and made sure she was okay.

When he'd left home and gotten his own apartment, she'd followed him to go to school to get away from their father. She'd wanted to be near the brother who'd always protected her from everyone who'd ever tried to bring her down. Any time she'd gotten sick, he'd taken her to his apartment and nursed her back to health as if it were his job; as if no one else was trustworthy to watch out for her.

She never understood why he was so driven to look after her, but she never spent much time worrying about it or appreciating it for what it was. Until now, that is.

"Sarah?" Tim was worried. His little sister had gone quiet; too quiet for his liking and that protective instinct crept in.

Blinking, she returned to the present and to the look of worry on her big brother's face. "I'm fine Tim. It's you everyone's worried about."

Tim's face nearly crumpled, before he forced himself to put it all away. "Doubt that. Not after what I've done." He muttered half under his breath.

"Everyone on your team's been really upset about this." She offered the whiter shade of the truth, deliberately leaving out the darker side of it.

Being reminded of the team he'd just gotten the team leader of killed, instantly had Tim tearing up and turning away from his sister as he heralded every ounce of inner strength he had to keep from breaking down again. After all, it wasn't every day you got your boss killed.

"Tim? Tim what is it?" Sarah asked with genuine worry. "Come on, Talk to me. I know you've just woken up but there's something bothering you. Does your head hurt? I can get a nurse."

"No. Nothing hurts. Really tired, Sarah. Can you come back tomorrow?" he asked as calmly as he could manage.

"Tim! Tim, talk to me!" She pleaded, hating that he was shutting down on her. While it was rare that he completely opened up to her about his troubles, he'd rarely shut her out like this completely.

"Please, Sarah. Just go." Tim's voice cracked as he tried to be firm with her. He really couldn't talk to her right now because it was all he could do to get through every minute without getting buried under the guilt that was crashing down on him again, tearing him apart inside.

"Right. That proves, it, Tim McGee! You're hiding something from me and I'm not leaving here until you tell me what it is!" She complained loudly, hoping to stir him back to a reaction of some kind, even if it was anger.

Behind her, the door to the room opened and Tony walked in along with Ziva and Ducky. "What's going on? We can hear your voice all the way out in the hall." Tony questioned in his most authoritative tone.

"Something's bothering him and he's refusing to tell me what it is. But, it's bad enough that he's actually ignoring me and he never does that." Sarah complained without lowering her voice.

"It looks to me like he has gone back to sleep." Ziva cautioned as her eyes remained fixed on her teammate in the bed. "Besides, he has not been awake long. Maybe it is just that."

"Sarah, I must agree. Right now this is not what Timothy needs. Please, let the poor boy rest."

"No. He's not sleeping. You know what? You don't wanna talk to me, big brother, that's fine. Maybe you'll talk to your teammates! I'll come back later. Maybe you'll be kind enough to talk to me then, huh?" She stormed out.

Tony's eyes were glued to his probie throughout little sister's ranting and couldn't help but see the younger man curl in on himself even more at her mention of his teammates. In fact, Tony could swear he saw a tremor run through Tim's body at Sarah's words.

Ducky watched silently as Tony took a minute to assess the situation. He had faith in the older agent and was content to let him handle this unless his method of doing so proved to be unwise or unsafe for either himself or their patient. He, too knew that Tim was awake and so troubled by something he was refusing to speak to them.

What he also knew, was that Tim had never been one who would talk until he was ready; which he obviously was not. Medically speaking, trying to push Tim was a bad idea and so he stopped to watch for things getting out of hand.

Without a second thought, Tony reacted in big brother mode as he stepped up to the bed and sat down where Tim could see him. "Hey, Probie. It's obvious you don't wanna talk to us right now and that's okay. How about you go on back to sleep and just let Ziva and I keep you company, alright? Ducky's gonna take Sarah home and then go get some sleep himself. All of them will be back to see you tomorrow."

Tony brought Tim's blanket up and made sure his Probie was covered and warm before sitting down in one of the hard, plastic chairs. Now he watched, not only for a reaction, but for some kind of sign that Tim was relaxing away from the stress he'd been so obviously feeling when they'd walked into the room. He exchanged silent understanding looks with Ducky as the Scotsman left to go find Sarah and drive her home.

Tim breathed out a sigh of relief. He'd have to thank Tony later; after they got done raking him over the endless supply of coals for getting Gibbs killed. That's if Tony ever spoke to him again after he recovered from this. It was pretty obvious the older agent was just here out of responsibility as the new Senior Agent for the team.

Right now, though, sleep sounded so much more inviting than the pain that Tim's thoughts and realizations were bringing him. He did as Tony suggested and let that blessed escape route open up for him as he stepped over the threshold.

Tony stood up once he realized Tim had silently fallen back asleep without so much as looking at either of them. Something was going on here and it was obvious that Tony and Ziva or even Sarah weren't going to be the ones to figure out what that was from Tim. Maybe the kid would talk to Ducky or Gibbs.

Crossing the room, Tony came to stand next to Ziva where she stood leaning against the ledge at the windows. "Whattaya think's goin' on with him?" he questioned quietly.

"I do not know, Tony. Perhaps it would be best if we leave that question up to Ducky to find the answer to tomorrow since it is obvious McGee does not wish to speak to either us or her sister tonight."

"Hmm. I agree. I'm glad he's asleep. Less stressful for him that way while we're his watchdogs and he needs to rest. An injury like that's gonna take a while to come back from." Tony mused. "C'mon, we might as well get comfortable. It's gonna be a long night."

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him, obviously not happy about something.

"What? What'd I do?" Tony asked suspisciously.

"It is what you are not doing, Tony. You are not angry or complaining about McGee not talking to you about what is bothering him. You have not once made a joke or said something insulting to him."

"Zee-vah! Not only has he only been awake for a whole ten minutes, but the man's recouperating from a gunshot wound to the head! And do I really need to remind you of how that happened?" Tony griped a tad bit louder

"No, Tony. You do not need to remind me." Her partner quietened down and settled more comfortably into her chair by the window. "Do you think he will be as forgiving about this as he always has been with everything else, Tony?" She asked in an almost whisper.

"I hope so, Ziva. I hope so." Tony answered back quietly as he settled into the other chair by the window and drew out a sigh of frustration.

It was gonna be a long night.

******NCIS******

After a peaceful yet restless night spent at Ducky's, trying to sleep, the next morning found Gibbs and Ducky trying to eat a decent meal at a nearby coffee shop before heading to the hospital. Abby had gone to check in at work, knowing she had other teams she worked evidence for and could not exclusively hold herself out for Team Gibbs, even when one of them was hurt like Tim was. She hated not being there for him now, but everyone understood when duty called, you had to be there.

"You ready to tell me what's been botherin' you since last night, Duck?" Gibbs asked after running out of patience waiting for the older man to talk about whatever it was.

"Yes, Jethro, I suppose I am. I do apologise, it was just difficult to take in and I've had trouble trying to wrap my head around it."

"Okay. What is it?"

"It seems as though young Timothy finally did awaken yesterday and while that is good news in itself, it didn't take long for something to upset him. We don't know what, but he refused to speak to his sister while she visited him last evening."

"You're kidding."

"I wish that I were, Jethro. Although I must say that Timothy did not wish to speak to Anthony or Ziva either."

"Shoulda let me know when it happened, Ducky." Gibbs groused in irritation.

"I do apologise, Jethro. I wasn't trying to keep you in the dark. I simply needed to think on things for a bit and I know you. You would have insisted that he speak to you, despite his obvious reluctance to speak with anyone. May I also remind you, that after being awake for less than ten minutes, there may have been some confusion playing into the mix. He needed his rest."

"Don't hide things from me about my team, Duck." Gibbs growled.

"Very well. I shall endeavor not to do so again. I do wish I knew what was going through that young man's mind right now."

"Soon as we get there, you can find out, Doc." The younger man encouraged now that he'd been pacified, but just barely. Mentally switching gears, Gibbs moved his mental focus back on the here and now. "But, we're not leavin' here until you eat."

With a wry chuckle, Ducky finally began to eat his breakfast, anxious to get to the hospital to see their patient.

****NCIS*****

It wasn't but a short thirty minutes later that they were traversing the hallways of the hospital enroute to Tim's room, still silent even as they reached the door to his room. Tony glanced up and noticed them in the doorway. Without hesitation, he joined them and motioned for Gibbs to join him out in the hallway.

"Good morning, Ziva. How is our patient doing this morning?" the M.E. asked quietly as he stepped up to the end of the bed to read Tim's chart.

"Good morning, Ducky. He has slept through the night, although he was so restless at first, they did have to give him something to help him sleep more restfully. The nurses assured us that it was not nearly as strong as the one they used to keep him asleep before yesterday. And once they gave him that, he slept through the remainder of the night without difficulty. He has yet to awaken."

"Wonderful. That is just what the doctor ordered." Ducky quipped in an effort to break through the tension he felt in the air. "Is something wrong?"

"No but I cannot help but wonder if the reason McGee refused to speak to anyone last night is because he is unforgiving of the guilt Tony and I both carry for what almost happened to him." Ziva admitted as she came to stand beside him at the end of the bed.

"Nonsense, Ziva. We all know that Timothy does not think that way. He does not hold grudges for something that almost happened. I'm sure once things have settled down, all of that will become much more clear. Now, why don't you go and get some breakfast and make sure Tony eats as well."

'Where is Sarah? Did she not say she would be back here this morning?" Ziva questioned.

"I believe she will be here later on. Go on." Ducky insisted.

"All right. You will call us if he wishes to see us, yes?"

"Of course, my dear."

As the door closed behind Ziva, Tim's eyes opened and he looked toward the end of the bed, hoping to somehow catch the M.E.'s eye. He'd waited until Ziva had gone, inadvertently hearing her concern that didn't quite make sense to him. _Why was she concerned about him not talking to her and not bitingly angry at him for getting Gibbs killed?_He knew she thought of him as the father she'd never had – the kind that cared about you as a person and not a puppet in his master scheme of dictatorship – as her own had done. She must truly hate him for taking the person who'd come to have that role in her life – away from her like this.

"Ah, Timothy! It's so good to finally see you awake, dear boy!" Ducky greeted him jovially.

"Hey, Ducky." Tim answered back quietly and without any spark in the usually bright, green eyes.

"How are you feeling, lad?"

"Head hurts. Tired."

"Yes, well both of those are quite normal, I'm afraid, after being grazed by a bullet the way in which you have been. I must say, we are all much relieved that it did not do any more damage than knocking you to the ground, which I must say, caused the most damage in itself."

"Ducky?" Tim questioned more cautiously than the M.E. had ever heard him before. "

"Yes, Timothy? Whatever's the matter?"

"Why are you talking to me like nothing happened? Don't you hate me?"

"Why on earth would you think such a thing?" Ducky asked in shock.

"It's my fault Gibbs is dead. I have to resign if I haven't already been fired for getting him killed" Tim admitted so quietly, the older man barely heard the words and couldn't believe them when he did hear them. He couldn't, however, miss the tears in the young man's eyes or the heartbreak in his tone.

"Timothy, what on earth do you mean?" Ducky's confusion was as genuine as the shock he felt that this young man had been harboring such painful misconceptions.

"I tried to get the shooter aiming at Gibbs and I couldn't! I got hit before I got the guy. I was too slow! I didn't get my shot off quick enough! And now Gibbs' is gone! Everyone's so pissed at me they can barely stand to look at me. I don't even know why they come to see me."

"Oh, dear heavens, Timothy! Is that why you refused to speak to anyone yesterday when you first woke up, dear boy? It was my understanding that you've woken up several times but briefly, and each time you were in distress as you fell back asleep without saying a word to anyone. Is this why? Here we thought it was the physical pain you're having to endure and it's been this horrible mess of thoughts all along, hasn't it?" Ducky sympathized as he stepped over to the window of the bedroom that led out into the hallway and knocked on it when he saw Gibbs standing outside the room talking to Tony just out of view of the window.

Gibbs looked up at the knock on the window and nodded at his friend's gesture that he come into the room. "Alright, Tony. Ducky and I'll get to the bottom of what's botherin' McGee. You and Ziva go get some breakfast and then go home and hit the hay."

"Thanks, Boss." Tony walked away to join Ziva where she was waiting for him by the elevator.

Gibbs walked into Tim's room and stopped as the color immediately drained from his agent's face. "Tim? What's wrong? Ducky! What the hell's going on? Why does he look like he's seen a ghost?"

"Because, Jethro, he thinks he has. Since this is the first time he has laid eyes on you since the horrid events in the warehouse, he honestly believed you'd been killed. He thought his efforts to stop the shooter from killing you had been too little, too late."

"Wait! What? He thought what? Thought I was dead?" the Team Leader asked in shock.

Tim nodded silently even as tears of relief filled his eyes.

Gibbs took himself over to the bed and sat down in the chair next to it. "Gonna have to tell me how you came to that conclusion, McGee."

"Everytime I opened my eyes, Tony or Ziva or Abby was here but they all looked like someone had died. Ducky hadn't been here and neither had you." Tim quietly explained himself, not taking his eyes of his boss, too relieved that he was alive to let him out of his sight at the moment.

"And that logical brain of yours thought it all added up that easy." Gibbs offered to let the young man know that he understood what had happened.

"Yeah. Have to tell you, I'm really glad I was wrong." Tim smiled as the last emotional sob choked itself out and he wiped his hand across his face one last time and breathed out a sigh of relief that literally seemed to take years off his expression

"Me too, McGee. Me too." Gibbs smiled softly. "Gotta tell ya, if you weren't recovering from a head injury, you'd be due for a head slap right about now."

"Boss?"

"Since when is it okay to break my rules just because you're injured, McGee?" Gibbs quipped.

"What ru…?"

"Eight, for starters."

Tim swallowed hard. Yeah, he had assumed and he hadn't double checked either. The boss was right. He'd broken at least those two rules without even breaking a sweat.

"I take it, Timothy that this means you no longer feel that you have to resign?" Ducky questioned quietly.

Tim shook his head. "No, that hasn't changed." He answered. "I still need to do that."

Gibbs looked at Ducky and silently asked him to step out. He wanted to handle this one on one with his agent who, it seemed, would always doubt his place on the team when things got extremely dicey like this.

"McGee. Where's the strong, determined agent who wouldn't back down from me tryin' to send him packin' the night of Mike Franks' funeral?" Gibbs asked quietly, remembering the deep determination that had kept him sane that night.

"Not willing to be responsible for anyone else's death, Boss." Tim answered solemnly as he looked his mentor straight on. "Not willing to let being burned out cost anyone their lives."

_"You're not just gonna let that go?"_

Gibbs stood up and paced to the window for a minute as Mike's vital question came back to him. He had no intention of letting this go, but to be reminded of Mike's viewpoint, he felt a deepening determination to fix this here and now. Turning back, he walked back over to the chair and sat back down. "Do you know how many people have been killed while I've been directly or indirectly involved in a case, McGee?"

"No." came the soft answer.

"Neither do I. And it's not because I don't care. I just refuse to let it consume me and keep me from doing my job. It hurts to lose people, it hurts like hell. We all feel it; every one of us. We wouldn't be good at our jobs if we didn't feel it. But it's a risk that comes with the territory. Doesn't mean I'm gonna walk away and let the bad guys win while I'm still capable of doing the job. That would just mean the sacrifices of the people we have lost were in vain. I won't dishonor their memories like that."

Tim remained silent, his vision made glossy with unshed tears as he kept his eyes glued to the blanket covering his feet at the end of the bed. Gibbs had never said so much to him at one time before and never had anything he'd ever said, meant so much, with the exception of the rare apology or words that were meant to be one.

"Tim. Look at me." Gibbs urged quietly.

Tim looked up at his boss, his uncertain, glassy eyes betraying the emotion and pain he was feeling.

"When Shannon and Kelly were murdered and my life as I knew it was over, Mike Franks told me something that became the reason I kept my head in the game. " Gibbs told him, his eyes soft and his voice quiet with reverent rememberence as he let his mentor's words from the past speak for him now.

_"Not even gonna ask where you been. Guess the question is 'where you goin'?"_

"You really wanna be a cop, you gotta let a lotta old stuff go. Learn a lotta new stuff to take its' place. Think you can do that?"

Tim blinked to clear his vision as the words fell from Gibbs' mouth; words that made so much sense and even gave purpose to the very idea of staying in the job he had worked so hard to earn and keep. The trouble was he no longer felt the drive he had way back when. In fact, he felt more guilt and a deeper sense of failure than anything else. He had learned a lot and he knew that was always more to learn and to take the place of the old stuff he shouldn't be still carrying around. But no amount of letting go could erase the harm he'd done and to the people that had lost their lives over the years. It was time to put a stop to that. That was the bottom line.

Gibbs watched Tim as his mind seemed to be thinking about what he'd said. It was obvious this young man still had a lot to think about. But, he also had some physical recovery time ahead of him as well. There was no need for him to think he had to come to any decision right now. In fact, if he had attempted to make a final choice right now, Gibbs would have been hard pressed to accept it and would have fought tooth and nail to keep Tim on the team.

Getting up from his chair, he patted Tim on the shoulder. "No decisions until you're better and in full readiness." He quietly ordered. "I'm not accepting anything till you can think clearly about things and besides, I'm not ready to break anyone else in yet. Not when I've already got the best team."

Blinking once more, Tim looked up at his boss and felt one of the tears he was holding back trickle down his cheek at Gibbs' words. "Okay."

Gibbs nodded. "Go back to sleep. Doctors' orders." He headed toward the door.

"Boss?" Tim called him back.

"Yeah, McGee?" the Team Leader stopped and looked back.

"Thank you."

"McGee…"

"I'm serious. I heard what you said to me yesterday, in my sleep. I just thought you were…"

Gibbs walked back to the chair beside the bed and sat down. "You thought I was talkin' to ya from the other side?" his lips quirked before he could stop himself.

"Yeah. I know it sounds crazy, Boss. But, it wouldn't be the first time. I mean when Kate…." Tim stopped and looked away in embarrassment. How could he explain how Kate had appeared to him and talked to him several times back then? The boss would never believe him and probably think he'd gone crazy.

Gibbs sighed. "Yeah, McGee. I get it. You just remember what it was I told you yesterday. I wouldn't be here right now, if you hadn't seen that shooter and taken him out when you did. It's not your fault he got a shot off as he fell. If you hadn't gotten him, he'd have gotten me a hell of a lot worse than a through and through to the shoulder. That's gotta count for something, so while you're thinkin' of giving up I want you to remember that."

"Thanks, Boss." Tim offered quietly. "Do you think….? Never mind." Tim gave up, realizing he had no right to ask the question that was on his mind.

Gibbs, on the other hand, wanted no stone unturned in this conversation, needing Tim to lay it all out on the table before he made a decision he'd come to regret. "Spit it out, McGee."

"I was just wondering if you thought maybe you could tell me now, what made you leave when you did and what made you stay when you came back."

The Team Leader felt like he'd been sucker punched. Those questions pulled deeply at the hidden layers of who Gibbs was and he wasn't sure he was capable of sharing that part of himself like Tim was needing him to.

He hadn't been ready to answer those questions when the young man had asked him that morning after Mike's funeral not too long ago, but maybe he was ready to answer them now; ready because Tim was obviously ready and in need of hearing the answers. Breathing a sigh, Gibbs dug deep and rummaged for the memory and the strength to share it.

"It's okay, Boss. I understand. I shouldn't have asked. Just like I shouldn't have asked two months ago, either." Tim offered his apology as he laid back against his pillow and gazed down at the blanket that covered his lower legs and feet.

"McGee." Gibbs objected, the irritation at Tim jumping to the wrong conclusion about what he was going to say, lacing his tone.

Tim closed his mouth and waited. He knew Gibbs was gearing up to say something and he was more than willing to listen.

"Until the explosion, I'd been able to bury it all enough to live with it a long time ago. Waking up from that coma brought everything back to me as if it had just happened. It was fresh, real. Add the terrorism case we weren't allowed to stop because of the buracratic b.s. – when all of those innocent people were killed just so no one would get what Pin Pin Pula had done on tape – I just couldn't get my head around it all. I needed to step back and figure things out."

Tim nodded and watched the emotions flicker over Gibbs' face. He was too respectful of the soul digging that this man was doing to give him the answers to interrupt him.

"You asked me why I stayed when I came back. That was Jenny's doing."

Tim smiled softly as he imagined where that conversation had to have led. _Whoa!_

_**Thwack**_

Tim rubbed his shoulder where Gibbs had just smacked him.

"Be glad you have that head injury or I'd a smacked you upside the head like I do DiNozzo only harder! She told me something that goes for you, too, McGee, so hear this."

_"The fact is, you're good. …. When you're as good at something as you are, when you can make a difference like you can, you just don't quit."_

"Keep reminding yourself of that every time that brain of yours comes close to giving up and you wanna hand in your badge." Getting up from the chair, Gibbs left his agent to his thoughts, no more words needing to be said. Turning to look back at him one last time before leaving, he was surprised to find the young man watching him. Raising his eyebrows in silent question; Gibbs waited for the words he knew were coming.

"Thanks, Boss." Tim offered almost reverently. The boss had let him in on a lot of personal stuff and the younger man felt humbled by it.

Nodding in silent acceptance, Gibbs left, knowing Tim had a lot to think about and still needed his rest.

Walking out to the others in the hallway, Gibbs smiled the smile of one who knows all is right with the world…or at least, it soon will be.


	14. Chapter 14

**Epilogue**

_Five months later – Dec. 23, 2011_

Two days before Christmas and for once, the work day had ended on time with no new case landing in their lap and no sudden surprise assignments being handed down from upstairs. Gibbs sat back in his chair and looked at his three agents. There was a hum of excitement at actually being able to enjoy Christmas this year and he found himself being swept up with them all in their festive spirit. With more cheer in his voice these days than there used to be on any regular basis, he sounded the call. "Go home!"

"Yes!" Tony rejoiced as he practically jumped from his chair. In super-speed mode, he leaned down to shut his work station down before snapping up and shouldering his backpack, already heading toward the elevator. "Night and a Merry Christmas to one and all!" he hollered over his shoulder at them in general, too much in a hurry to slow down for such nicities. He'd got a date tonight and for once he wouldn't have to cancel or postpone it. Maybe he'd get lucky and be able to hold on to this one for more than this one date after all. Might be that she'd even be making his Christmas wish come true this year.

Ziva was more sedate in her pace as she too closed down her work station and bode Gibbs and Tim both a fond good night; a wish they both returned to her genuinely. It'd been a difficult five months for her and they were both aware of that more keenly than even Tony or Abby realized. Tony has had his own struggles to settle back into what was normal and let whatever was bothering him go for good. But, he, at least, had only needed a month to get through it. He'd been back to his normal self for the past four months and it almost seemed as though the entire shooting incident had never happened.

It had been a different story with Ziva though. Once Tim returned to work in mid-June, a full two weeks after the shooting, their resident Ninja Chick remained cautious around him, almost as if needing to keep her distance while keeping him wrapped in bubble wrap. Even as he remained on desk duty for yet another precautionary two weeks, she'd gone in to hyper-drive where looking out for him was concerned. It had gotten to the point where Gibbs had taken her into his 'office' and called her off the protection mode even as she denied it. He'd simply reminded her quietly that Tim remained unaware of the situation for which she was refusing to stop feeling guilty for. He'd gone further and had allowed his tone to become stern as he reminded her that Tim was a hell of a lot tougher than she was giving him credit for.

Admonishing her to get her head out of the past and back into the present, he'd sent her back to work and that had been the end of it. That seemed to have done the trick and both Gibbs and Tim were able to breathe a sigh of relief when Ziva had begun easing off her near-coddling of the younger agent. They'd already seen Tony have moments where he'd had to work through his feelings on what had taken place, but in true DiNozzo style, he'd done it through jokes and pranks, or silence and jitteriness, nothing so out of character for him that it raised any red flags.

From his desk across the room, Gibbs watched his youngest agent think about things now and cocked his head with interest as he waited to see what would happen next. He saw how Tim watched as Ziva headed out and smiled as he raised his coffee cup up to take a drink. His family had rebounded from a long and bumpy journey. There were still a few unfinished tasks to be taken care of in time for Christmas and he'd been working on one particular project for close to five months now. With a little more work left to be done on it, it was up to him to see that it got done on time so he headed out of the squad room, wishing Tim a good night as over his shoulder as he went out.

Tim returned Gibbs' words in kind and continued to think about Ziva's mood as she headed out, happier than she's been in quite a while. He didn't know what it was that made her that happy, but he was grateful for it; whatever it happened to be; or whoever. He'd always wanted her to be happy because he considered her to be one of his dearest friends and hated to see her unhappy as she was when he first returned to work after the shooting.

Abby had been different since the shooting as well. Tim had yet to understand why that was or what he'd done to push her away as her actions seemed to be showing him he'd done. They rarely spoke to each other now and when they did, it was stilted and uncomfortable unless it was about work. Tim hated that things were like this between himself and Abby but had long ago learned that nothing would be explained until Abby was good and ready to let him in on it.

He knew his sister had come to intensely dislike the lab rat because, as he'd found out, she'd been nosing through his journals while he was sleeping a time or two over the past several years. He'd taken her to task for it when he'd finally figured it just the other day when she'd left them open. But there was little he could do to undo the damage except reassure her that all of that which was hurtful and painful between himself and Abby was in the past and that was exactly where he wanted it to stay. He couldn't imagine that his little sister would go against his wishes and confront Abby about any of what he'd written down in those pages.

While those journals had been his life preserver, allowing him to vent his hurts and frustrations, and his pain and anger in times when he'd been wronged or felt belittled or unneeded or even guilty; he'd never wanted them to be read by anyone. They'd been were his way to make sense of the cruelty and chaos he seemed to be surround with on the job. Writing it down seemed to help him come to terms with it all and get his head back in the game every day. He certainly never meant for them to come back and haunt anyone on the team. What was done was done and there was no room for looking back. _What was it Mike Franks had said to Gibbs?_

_"You really wanna be a cop, you gotta let a lotta old stuff go. Learn a lotta new stuff to take its' place."_

Closing down his work station now, he glanced around the squad room to find that only he remained. Tim smiled as he thought back over the past eight months. It'd been a rough roller coaster ride; one he wouldn't have stayed on without the help and support of Gibbs. For someone who rarely spoke, the man had had much to say when it counted and Tim found himself grateful for that every single day since the shooting.

He'd taken the memories that Gibbs had shared with him and mulled them over in his mind, repeatedly, endlessly looped with the 'functional mute' man's' own words intertwined among them. They consistently purged any doubts and highlighted the drive he'd always had to stay in the game so he could pursue justice for the victims and carry on being the agent he'd become.

_"…that goes for you, too, McGee."_

_"The fact is, you're good. …. When you're as good at something as you are, when you can make a difference like you can, you just don't quit."_

_"I'm proud of you, McGee. You did good. Now you gotta hang in there. You don't have permission to let go. Not for this, Son. You were there to help me hang on. Now I'm gonna be here for you, McGee."_

It hadn't taken long for those cherished words of wisdom to become deeply planted in Tim's subconscious staying there like a hidden crown jewel through thick and thin as time marched on. While he'd recovered physically, Tim had oftentimes leaned heavily on those words as he took the time to also recover from the beginnings of job burnout and the return of survivor's guilt, even going so far as to talk to a Psychologist off the record, daily at first, his need for talking through his plethora of emotions that strong.

He knew that Gibbs wouldn't push the issue of it going on his record and for that he'd been grateful. Talking things out had done wonders for him and by the time he'd been cleared to return to desk duty, just two weeks after being shot, Tim had been ready to face the job again. To his surprise, once again, he'd found himself happy to be there, almost as if the feelings of not being good enough had just slithered away, hurried on thier way by the passed on wisdom of those no longer with them.

Nothing else had changed very much between Tim and Gibbs or between Tim and Ducky. Tim thought back over the past five and a half months and couldn't help the smile that graced his face at how everything slowly but surely returned to normal. Well, as much as it could with Abby and Ziva acting a little out of sorts. What change had come, had been positive and reaffirming with less impossible expectations and more appreciation for all as well as more respect for their bodies' limitations; especially in the midst of a case that just couldn't be cracked, here or there.

Tim knew he had much to be grateful for. His recovery had consisted of little more than brain teaser exercises and careful monitoring of non-physical activities for the first month; including driving. To this day, he was grateful that his teammates had stepped up and willingly drove him back and forth to work and always let it be known they could be counted on to run him on any errands. Tim smile didn't waver as he told himself yet again that he had a lot to be thankful for. They all did.

Still he couldn't help but mourn for the family that wasn't what it should be. His family was torn apart all those years ago and the loneliness always came back to him full force on the run up to the festive season; more so on Christmas Eve. He'd tried for seven years now to pick up the phone and call his father for Christmas, just to wish him a happy one. But, every year, he was met with the same delimma.

He would pick up the phone and push the buttons for the numbers very slowly, as if every movement weighs a ton and by the time he reached the last button, his hand would flip the phone shut, his brain screaming at him that he wasn't ready for another round of rejection from the man who's supposed to love him unconditionally but somehow couldn't ever comprehend that part of the definition of parenting.

Every Christmas for the past six years has been a journey through sorrow and regret. He missed his mom and longed for that relationship to be mended so everything could be right once again. But, so long as things are estranged between him and his father, he refused to subject his mother to any emotional ping-pong matches between the two men in the family and so he's left her be content within her marriage, hoping she'd call him when she was ready. He could only hope and pray that she didn't hold him responsible for the rift between himself and his father. After all, he'd never asked for his father to hold such impossible expectations over his head or consider him an outcast for not being able to meet them.

His sister had been a hard enough situation to handle since that difficult day in the hospital. Ever since he'd been overwhelmed with grief and guilt and had turned away from her unable to talk, she'd become angry and bitter, never having anything to say without reminding him of his moments of callousness when he'd been at his darkest moments, when he truly thought he'd killed his boss.

It was yet another relationship he hadn't been able to mend completely but still continued to try. Sarah had yet to be willing to hear him out long enough to get the whole story to see what was going through his mind that day when he'd shut out the world for those moments, too buried under guilt and worthlessness to hear her cries to be let in so she could help him.

Shrugging his shoulder now in order to raise the strap on his backpack higher, Tim sighed. There was nothing he could do to fix any of this now. It was too close to Christmas and no one, not even God could arrange travel plans on the second busiest travel day of the year with that kind of short notice.

Easing himself behind the wheel of his economy car, he relished the freedom that being back on complete active duty has brought back with it. He could still remember the day his primary physician signed off on the official report that he was cleared for field duty again. Out of respect for Ducky, he'd taken the report down to the M.E. first, allowing him to double check behind the first doctor. With Ducky's intimate knowledge of what kind of work and physical exertion this job entailed, Tim had actually been relieved to get his second opinion and hoped for his concurrance that he was fighting fit and ready to return to the fold.

Ducky had raised his eyebrows in a strangely Gibbs-like move as he'd pondered Tim's request, but had soon smiled and done as Tim asked. It hadn't taken him long to cover everything he wanted to check and in the end, found himself agreeing with the first assessment. With a smile and a genuine thank you for the M.E., Tim had nearly flown from Autopsy and just barely managing to force himself to take the elevator back to the squad room.

Marching up to Gibbs' desk, paper in hand, Tim hadn't been able to help but smile broadly, unable to hide his pleasure at being completely back at his job, no longer tied to his desk for medical reasons. Thinking back on it now, Tim could still recall the look on Gibbs' face as he read the paper, set it in his desk drawer and got up from his chair, beckoning Tim to follow him as he walked to his 'office.'

He chuckled now as he drove off the Navy Yard, remembering how scared he felt at the possibility of having pissed the man off since the expression on his face was unreadable. He remembered Gibbs scrutinizing him for a long silent minute after stopping the elevator in his typical fashion. Finally, after an intense silence which had only served to increase Tim's nervousness, Gibbs had spoken.

_**Flashback**_

_"You change your mind?" the question blindsided Tim because he'd completely forgotten his plan to quit. In fact, he hadn't even thought of that mindset or those statements he'd made, in months._

_"Yes, Boss." Tim answered with complete seriousness as he kept his eyes on those of his boss._

_"Woulda been nice to hear that before now, McGee."_

_"I know, Boss. I'm sorry. It's, just…" Tim faltered, knowing Gibbs didn't always appreciate an explanation for unacceptable behavior._

_"Go on." Gibbs encouraged. Since Tim was actually trying to fix the problem._

_"I'd forgotten."_

_The boss' eyebrows marched up to his hairline in unmistakable disbelief._

_"After I got to talking things out and getting a fresh perspective, I got so wrapped up in concentrating on doing what I had to so I could come back to work that I completely forgot."_

_"There a reason you didn't come talk to me about it before you forgot?"_

_"Boss, I thought long and hard about what you told me; what you shared with me. It's all I thought about for a long time, when I wasn't at work. When you shared with me what Director Shepard and Mike Franks said to you that made a difference for you; it was like everything else just washed away."_

_"McGee…" Gibbs objected._

_"I know, I know, that's not realistic, but it's the truth."_

_"What happens then next time one of us gets shot? Or the next time someone involved with the case gets killed?" Gibbs pushed relentlessly, stepping closer to Tim's personal space._

_Tim swallowed hard but didn't back down. His eyes remained locked on Gibbs'. "I'm not walkin' away."_

_"Not havin' this conversation again."_

_"I know."_

_"Tell me why you're so sure now that this is what you want."_

_Tim blinked to clear his vision and swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. Finally, he spoke. "Because if you still believe in me enough to want me on your team, then I must be doing something right. And as long as that's the case, I can't walk away."_

_Gibbs stepped back in surprise, a grin playing on his face. "Yeah?"_

_"Yeah." Tim smiled softly._

_"Don't ever forget it." The boss growled._

_Putting his smile away, Tim replied seriously. "I won't forget, Boss._

_"Told you years ago you belong to me, McGee. Don't know why you think that's changed." The boss complained almost petulantly. "Kinda young to be having memory problems, don'tcha think?_

_Tim smiled. "I won't forget again, Boss."_

A blaring horn bought Tim back to the present and he found himself taking a strangely familiar exit off the beltway. He was drawn to a place he'd begun coming to several years back, in a particularly vulnerable moment, when he'd needed to pause and take stock of his life. Now he drove to his destination almost on autopilot and parked on the side of the road in front of a community park. He got out feeling the need for the solitude that the unmarred landscape provided, and walked down to the pond where the ducks stubbornly remained through the winter months.

Drawing his own coat around him tighter to ward off the frigid temperature, He gasped at the gently falling snowflakes and the unkind wind that battered him. Tim turned away from the water and walked over to the nearest picnic table and sat down, feeling the beginning of the annual Christmas depression he'd just been thinking about.

Until now, it hadn't been a problem since work had always seemed to pop up at the last minute or Ducky'd managed to corral them all at his home for dinner. Nevertheless, in the lonely moments of the days surrounding Christmas, Tim had always been battered around by a full dose of depression, even if it has been just for an evening or an hour. He missed his parents, both of them, and was so, so tired of feeling like an orphan. It sucked, it really did. His grandmother, Penny, God bless her, was always off doing something or another, but never failed to send him her love, from afar. This year, being at odds with Sarah only compounded the feelings that crashed down on him now.

Absently, he wiped at the solitary tear from his face and frowned. He had been so lost in his thoughts, that he hadn't even realized they'd filled his eyes and begun to escape. Letting out a huge sigh of pain and frustration, Tim looked at his phone to check the time only to find he'd been sitting here lost in his thoughts for well over an hour now. No wonder he was feeling so damn cold. His coat was warm, but the lack of gloves and the frigid weather seemed to penetrate his clothing and left him completely chilled to the bones.

Getting up, he quickly got back to his car and headed out, being sure to crank up the heat first. Traffic had gotten worse and was now ostensibly crawling, so by the time he made it home it was a good two hours after he'd been told he could leave for the night. In his distracted state, he didn't even notice the set of familiar cars in his apartment complex parking lot or the all too familiar people behind the wheels of them, even as one of them got out and approached him.

"McGee!"

"Abby?" Tim frowned at the sight of the resident Goth standing there with the snow fluttering around her. After everything that had happened this past few months, he was surprised to see her and found himself unable to move.

_***NCIS***_

From inside the semi-warmth of his car parked where he could see both of them clearly, Gibbs watched Abby and Tim as they began to talk. Abby must have told Tim it would only take a minute, or his polite to a fault agent surely would have been walking their lab rat inside to his warm apartment by now. Looking at them now, it was hard to imagine how they could have ever broken up, they looked so happy together and Tim had never completely allowed the flame in his heart for her to go out, at least not that the bossman knew of. Gibbs hoped this was Abby's effort to fix whatever had broken between them because he missed that cohesiveness on the team and wanted it back and he knew that it had been hard on McGee as well.

The young man had never allowed himself to talk about his inadvertant admissions of long borne guilt and pain he kept locked away. While there had never been an obvious 'right moment' to bring it up, Gibbs had not forgotten the need he felt to help Tim deal with what he was keeping inside. He vowed, even now, that one day soon, that was a conversation they would have, even if Tim had managed to put it all back under wraps when he came back to work after the shooting. The fact remained that it wasn't something that could be swept under the rug indefinately. Gibbs promised himself he'd keep looking for the right moment to bring it up.

Letting out a sigh, he thought back to the reason he was here. It had taken a while and actually a lot of stubbornness and work on his part but the end result had been completely worth it. Now all he needed to do was get Tim to cooperate and everything would work out just fine. Gibbs noticed Abby hug his agent as if she was saying goodbye and knew the time had come for him to make his presence known before Tim bolted for the warmth of his apartment and crashed for the night.

The young man did look exhausted, but more than that he looked a little lost, although whatever Abby had said to him had helped ease that look from his face enough to make a difference that could be seen.

Climbing out of his car, he stood and waited until Abby turned away from Tim and waved at him. Smirking, he realized he should have known that she would have seen him sitting there even when Tim hadn't. The troubled, far-off look that had been in the younger man's eyes when he pulled in earlier was another reason Gibbs was determined to do this tonight. Smiling back at Abby, he remained rooted to the spot while she got in her car and drove off into the night.

Raising his head and looking over at his agent, he was surprised to find the young man staring back at him with a wary look in his eyes. Tim shook his head and silently walked over to Gibbs and waited, knowing that the boss would explain his presence in his own time and in his own unique way.

"Could use your help with somethin'. Think you'd mind giving me a hand?" Gibbs offered the best explanation he'd thought of and even then he thought it sounded weak to his own ears.

Tim offered a small smile in return. "Sure, Boss." Without any further ado, the younger man walked to the passenger side of Gibbs' car and got in, buckling himself in and fixing his eyes onto the outside world as he recalled the short but important conversation he'd just had with Abby.

_***Flashback***_

"_Abby, what are you doing here, it's almost nine and we didn't have any plans that I recall."_

_"I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. It's important."_

_"Okay. C'mon up." Tim offered as he rubbed his hands together to try and get a bit of warmth into them._

_"No, I can't. Like I said, this will just take a minute. I came to say I'm sorry, Tim."_

_"Sorry for what, Abby?"_

_"For giving you the cold shoulder all this time. I know it hasn't been easy for you to work with me while I've practically acted like you didn't exist anymore. The fact is, I was angry. No, I was pissed. Super pissed."_

_"About what? What did I do?"_

_"That's just it, McGee. You didn't do anything. At least not directly. You see, Sarah was crying on Ziva's shoulder when you got shot and Ziva looked to me for help. You know Ziva doesn't do crying. But, when I tried to hug Sarah to make her feel better, she pulled away from me and got really, really angry. You know me; I had to know what the hell that was all about, so I cornered her the next day as she was coming to visit you. In short, by the time she was done tearing into me, it was pretty clear that she knew about every single thing you've ever gotten upset or pissed at me about since day one. I've been so angry that you would squeal like that, that I never stopped to realize that you're not like that; that there had to be more to it than that."_

_"Wow. All that and I never even knew about any of it. Sarah has a key to my apartment."_

_"I know. She told me. Tonight. I ran into her at the store and she asked me how you doing. I was so shocked that she had to ask that I just blurted it right out, how I had no idea because we weren't speaking and why weren't the two of you speaking."_

_Tim chuckled softly, the accompanying grin remaining on his handsome face for a minute._

_Abby smiled back. "I had no idea Tim. I didn't know that your sister hadn't realized you woke up thinking Gibbs was dead and that it was your fault. I let that cat out of the bag tonight. I hope you don't mind."_

_"It's okay, Abby. It wasn't really a secret. She just never gave me the chance to explain. What did she say when you told her?"_

_"She cried, Tim."_

_"Oh, God." Tim breathed out softly. He hated it when his little sister got upset like this. But, he knew that in this case, there was nothing he could have done different after the events in the hospital. Sarah had held all the cards and he'd had to play it by her rules. Actually, he felt grateful and relieved that this was out in the open now. "Not your fault, Abby. I appreciate you talking to her and coming here to talk to me too."_

_"You're welcome, Tim. It was the least I could do. You could have knocked me over with a feather when Sarah calmed down and asked me why you and I weren't talking. And when she told me how she'd come to know all that she did about me, I was speechless. I am so sorry, Timmy."_

_"It's okay, Abby. Its over. I forgive you. But, please do me a favor and don't jump to conclusions next time without talking to me about it first?"_

_"I won't. I promise. Thanks, Timmy. Look, I gotta go, Besides, Gibbs has been waiting here to talk to you for longer than I've been here."_

_She ignored his shocked reaction to her news about Gibbs and kissed him on the cheek before she turned to go, waving at the boss as she did. Tim smiled at her infectious energy and good mood. Realizing that he'd just had the only real conversation with Abby that he'd probably ever have, the smile soon faded and the depression approached once more. It was still only two days until Christmas and Tim was still without a family to celebrate it with, except now, at least, he might be able to have his sister back in time._

"You okay?" The need to offer Tim the option to talk about whatever it was, twisted Gibbs' heart enough that he'd voiced the concern. It was obvious that something was bugging his agent and the boss hoped that this now familiar question of concern was just what the young man needed to open up.

Pulled from his thoughts, Tim glanced at Gibbs, only to find the man was already scrutinizing him carefully, even though he'd already started the car and buckled himself in.

"I'm fine. Thanks." Tim offered and turned his attention back to the outside world.

Gibbs turned in his seat to wait for the truth to come out. He knew Tim hated lying, even little white lies like the one he'd just told and it wouldn't be long before the young man felt the guilt about it and would blurt out the truth.

Tim sighed knowing that Gibbs was taking the time to talk while the car was running. The fact that they were still in the same place, meant that the man wouldn't be dropping this until Tim talked to him. Tim dropped his gaze to look down at his lap and offered the truth.

"I will be. Christmas is always hard for me, that's all." He admitted quietly. He knew that this holiday had always been particularly hard on Gibbs as well and didn't want this to become any more painful for either of them by talking about what can't be fixed or undone.

"Understandable." Gibbs offered as he put the car in drive and almost offhandedly changed the subject. "You ready to help me out?"

"Sure." Tim smiled softly again as he glanced at the boss, thankful the man didn't make a big deal out of what he'd just admitted.

Gibbs nodded as he drove them away from Tim's apartment. The silence that descended between them actually felt comfortable as the world transformed into a white beauty that was reminiscent of a Christmas card. The Team Leader looked over and noticed Tim began to nod off and smiled to himself.

It was hard to believe that peace and normalcy had returned to his team with all that had gone on these last eight months; most especially the overwhelming guilt that plagued Tony and Ziva for so long immediately following the shooting. He recalled harnessing the strong urge he had after only a few weeks of watching them try to work through it, to send them to the agency shrink.

He had known then that his two capable agents would work through it in their own way and he hadn't wanted to force his way through their barriers just to have things done his way. He never asked them if it was gone or when it had been dealt with since they'd taken great pains to keep all things normal at work. He'd merely watched as little by little, the guilt disappeared from their eyes and their cushioning of any interaction they had with Tim became more relaxed.

With a half smile now, he remembered being grateful beyond measure that although Tony had inadvertantly told the others about Tim almost being killed in the warehouse that dreadful day,somehow, that emotionally heart-wrenching piece of information, despite being included in the official reports, had remained the most closely guarded secret and would forever remain a measure of pain they would not dump on Tim.

Gibbs knew that in keeping it locked away, the team had been able to mend that much quicker and with a much stronger bond. He'd been damn proud of Tony and Ziva for having the personal fortitude within themselves and respect for Tim and had known that they'd both been scared enough in that one incident, to keep it that way. He'd been impressed that Abby had never even attempted to discuss it either. He hoped that she'd gotten past it, for all thier sakes. Gibbs couldn't help but wonder what had happened to send Abby on this cold shoulder tail spin towards Tim since that day, but he also had faith in her that she'd work through it and find her way back to relying on the stregnth of her long-standing friendship with Tim to get things back on an even keel.

_***NCIS***_

Twenty minutes later, Tim roused from the cat nap he hadn't realized he'd fallen into. As he looked around blearily, Gibbs parked the car and turned off the engine. Looking around at the world outside the car, he realized where they were. Well, it made sense that they'd come to the boss' house if the boss needed help with something.

"Ready? How bout we go warm up with coffee before we get started." Gibbs got out of the car and headed towards his house without another word or a backward glance. Tim was mildly amused by the way Gibbs was acting and got out of the car.

As he caught up with the Boss, he threw out the question that had just flashed through his mind. "Uh. Boss? What exactly do you need my help with?"

Gibbs turned and smiled at him without answering, choosing instead to nod his head towards the inside of the house where it was warm.

Sighing in frustration, Tim hurried inside and quickly shed his snow dusted coat, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door. Slipping his wet shoes off, he followed Gibbs into his kitchen and sat when the man points him to the empty chair at the table. He vaguely wondered why Gibbs hadn't taken off his own coat or shoes but chased the thought away at the arrival of the blissfully hot cup of coffee that the older man is setting in front of him. "Thanks, Boss."

Sitting down at the table, Gibbs ventured down the untraveled road of a personal conversation with this young man; at least in terms of Tim's personal life as he watched him savor his coffee. "Took you a long time to get home tonight. Did something happen?"

Tim set his cup down and answered truthfully, his eyes cast on his coffee. "I just stopped off to do some thinking. I'm sorry you had to wait on me like that. If I'd known…"

"Not your fault. You didn't know. Just glad you're alright." Gibbs replied feeling relieved that his agent hadn't come to any harm.

"I'm alright, Boss. I just needed to clear my head and I have a place I go to when I need to do that."

Gibbs nodded his head, understanding fully what Tim had told him. He had his basement to run to, so it stood to reason that Tim had a place too. "You ready to help me now?" Gibbs got up and took a couple of steps towards the hallway.

"Sure." Tim put his cup down and followed the boss out of the room and down the hall into the living room.

When he got there, he was met with a sight that made his jaw drop with shock. He felt small tremors start to roll through his body, but he stood firm as he gaped at what was going on.

"Mom?...Dad?...Sarah?" Tim said incredulously. "What?...how?..."

Before he could say more, he was pulled into an embrace by his mom and sister and automatically wrapped his arms around them. His father restlessly stood behind him waiting for the hubbub to die down so he could greet his son for the first time in seven years.

Gibbs smiled softly and watched for a minute feeling the waves of emotion roll through him. This was something that he could never have a second chance at, but Tim's family weren't dead; they weren't lost forever. And Tim deserved to have the love of his family., especially at Christmas.

He turned and left the room to give the family privacy for the long overdue reunion they so desperately needed. He had toys to deliver anyway.

_****NCIS****_

Tim's father was the first to withdraw from the melee, retreating to Gibbs' kitchen. He was slightly alarmed to find his son's boss sitting there reading while drinking a cup of coffee because he thought the man had gone out a while ago. Now, he felt embarrassed at all that hugging and crying and carrying on by his womenfolk, and he worried that it had irritated this Marine to no ends, especially since it's been going on for almost two hours now.

"Coffee?" Gibbs offered the Commander standing lost in his thoughts where he'd halted in the kitchen doorway.

"Yes, Thank you. I heard from Director Vance that you've saved my son's life several times since he's been on this job, Agent Gibbs. Words can never express gratitude enough for something like that."

"You talked to Vance?" Gibbs couldn't help but ask in surprise.

"Absolutely. Once you'd convinced me of the huge mistake I was making, I wanted to get the full picture of the part of my son's life I've spent so long looking down on him for. I had to see for myself just how much I had to be proud of as his father." Tim's father replied without hesitation.

"His work is only part of who he is Commander." The Team Leader gruffly reminded the older man. Tim's a damn fine young man in his own right. Even I saw that much in him, the first time I laid eyes on him!"

"I know. Still, I can't help but keep thinking on the fact that you've saved his life and if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have this chance to make things right with him or his mother and sister. In more ways than one, it would seem." The younger father admitted.

"He's part of my team, Commander. Has been ever since I pulled him from that tiny office in Norfolk. In the seven years he's worked under me, I've seen your son grow into the man he is now and trust me when I say, it wasn't easy for him; we didn't make it easy for him. He was green when I got him but now…" Gibbs trailed off and chuckled. "Now he's earned the right to be proud of who he is and the job he does, every day."

"I'm impressed with what I've seen so far, Agent. Gibbs. Can't be easy having to look out for your team every day and still get your job done.

"My team always has each other's backs out there." The Team Leader stated unequivocally.

"So I've heard. No wonder Tim thinks so highly of you. Hell of a leader." Tim's father praised.

Gibbs nodded in silent appreciation as he drank more of his coffee.

"I'm grateful more than words can say that' you've done it, Agent Gibbs and helped him become who is his. I've only been around him for an hour and I'm proud of who he's become."

"I'm not the one that needs to hear this."

"I disagree, as Team Leader, Agent Gibbs. You do need to hear it, just as much as Tim does."

Gibbs let that remark go unanswered so the words already spoken would be taken in and actually remembered. After a minute, he felt the need to change the subject. "Sounds like you figured it out." Gibbs surmised causually, knowing the man knew exactly what the Team Leader is referring to.

"That you were right when you said I should be proud of him? Without a doubt. I can't thank you enough Agent Gibbs."

"He's a good man and a damn fine agent." The Team Leader stressed again, a rare occurance for him, but he felt the need to make sure this father in front of him never lost sight of these facts again. Commander McGee had hurt his son too much already. Gibbs wasn't about to let this go lightly.

"And a son that any man would be damn proud to have. I remember what you said. I'll say it again, you were right. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't insisted on showing me the work he does for you. I probably would have gone on indefinitely, believing …"

"Wasn't worth tearing your family apart, Commander. They deserved better." Gibbs drove his point home, parent to parent, just as he'd done with Tony's dad all some time ago when that man had needed a similar wake up call.

"I agree. And I'll never forget that I have you to thank for having my son back in my life." Commander McGee offered with obvious gratitude in his tone. "I made mistakes and still will, but hopefully my boy will forgive me for what I have done. Tim might not think so, but I've missed him. I just didn't want to be the first to break. Now all I feel is regret that I let that stubborn pride rule my decisions all these years."

"Boss? Dad? Everything okay?" Tim's worried question reached them from the doorway, a frown resting firmly on his face.

"Coffee, McGee?" Gibbs asked as he stood from the table and moved to fix the young man a cup before he even heard the answer.

"Thanks, Boss. Boss, what does Dad mean he has you to thank? How did ….?"

"Wasn't anything that a few phone calls couldn't take care of, McGee." Gibbs replied offhandedly.

"I wouldn't call a shouting match over live video feed and hand delivered reading assignment, a few phone calls, Agent Gibbs." Commander McGee objected wryly. "We both know that those 'few phone calls' numbered in the double digits, at least. But, again, my deepest gratitude for your intervention. Son, he's done a lot."

Gibbs smirked at Tim's rush of embarrsment when he noticed the young man's face had turned red. For the first time in years, Tim started to stutter. "W…what? W…why?"

Suddenly, Gibbs became serious and he looked his agent square on as he answered him. "Something else, Mike taught me."

Tim looked at him with all the same seriousness that they've had between them on that night after Mike's funeral and again during their talk in Tim's hospital room five months ago, as he waited to hear what Gibbs needed him to hear, knowing the man deliberately paused so Tim would indeed impart this with that sane importance.

"The unspoken rule." Gibbs finally spoke, his voice quiet in rememberance.

"I didn't know there was another one of those." Tim admitted quietly, licking his lips in nervousness.

Gibbs smiled softly. "Ya gotta do what you can for family. "

"But…?" Tim stumbled with his confusion. He'd always known that Abby and Tony were like the boss' kids but he'd always felt that connection had never fully been established between him and Gibbs; although the months since Mike's death had been the closest they'd come to having that amended.

_**Thawak**_

"Boss?"

"McGee, you belong to me, remember? That makes you family." Gibbs glared at him, daring him to argue against what he was telling Tim to accept as truth.

"Oh." With a wealth of gratitude and acceptance of what the boss was telling him beneath the lines, Tim smiled softly. "Thanks, Boss."

"You're welcome, Tim."

"Boss, it's getting late, so I'm gonna..." Tim started to explain his plans to get out of Gibbs' way.

"Go on up and get your parents settled in my room. Let Sarah have the guest room and you crash on the couch." Gibbs interrrupted with a short litany of instructions.

"Boss?" Tim questioned in surprise.

"You're all staying here for the next couple of days for Christmas."

Tim frowned with confusion. "Here?"

"Yup. The team are coming over tomorrow night for Christmas eve and Christmas day, Ducky's gonna cook the dinner. We'll be going to his place for a late lunch. I'll even bring already made rolls this time." Gibbs' joked with a smirk.

Tim laughed at the inside joke as his father silently sat through the experience of watching his son have a real conversation with the man he'd worked for and obviously come to respect a great deal in the last 7 years. Mrs. McGee and Sarah had come to stand silently in the kitchen doorway as the conversation continued, having been drawn in by the rare sound of Tim's genuine laughter.

Glancing around the room at Tim's family, Gibbs smiled before turning his attention back to his agent, still sitting at the table drinking his coffee. "After that, the week is yours for you and your family. Already cleared it with Vance and I don't wanna see you in the office until that week is up."

"Boss, I …" Tim was dumbstruck. Not only had Gibbs bought them all back together again, he was giving the McGee's a chance to put the past seven years behind him and make it right with his father..

Gibbs stepped closer to Tim and pulled him into a rare fatherly hug. "Merry Christmas, Tim."

During this rare moment, Tim held onto the man that had silently been there for him for the past seven years while the rift with his father had kept him in need of the extra support. It wasn't but a moment later that Tim returned the sentiment. "Merry Christmas, Boss. I don't know how to thank you." He admitted quietly.

"No need, Tim. It's what families are supposed to do. And this team is family."

_**FINIS**_


End file.
